The world stops and your eyes gloss over. The Benjis of the world don’t understand what you want, someone to make you pancakes. You don’t care about money. You don’t want to be spanked. You want love. Your father had a red ladle and now I have a red ladle and I will make you the pancakes you want so badly, the pancakes you haven’t tasted since he died. Your mouth waters and you submit, softly. “Okay, Joe.
-Caroline Kepnes
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