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I have a fourteen-year-old daughter, and lately I’ve been living in a narrow space between trust and fear.
She’s been seeing a boy from her class. Fourteen as well. His name is Noah. The kind of boy adults immediately relax around. He looks you in the eye. He says “please” and “thank you” without thinking. When he comes over, he asks where to put his shoes and whether he should help with anything.
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