“Margo, off the bed so I can make it please,” Dylan said entering the bedroom, face hidden behind the arm fulls of sheets and blankets. His pajamas were slung low over his hips and just the cuffs of his long sleeves were visible within the tangle of striped fabrics. With a shrug, he dropped his armful onto the mattress.
“Want help?” Margo asked, closing her book and setting it on the nightstand next to her.
Margo stood and smoothed her sweatshirt down over her leggings before leaning forwards and digging through the pile of fabrics for the pillowcases. “Did you talk to your mother yet?”
Dylan gathered all of the pillows from the bed and set them on an oversized chair in the corner of the room.  ...
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