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... ys turn back towards Mom, my heart plummeting the longer she stayed silent.
Of all that sat at this table, her opinion of me was the one I valued the most; I wanted her to be proud of me, happy that I was her daughter.
And yet, each passing second felt like a new crack appearing on my heart, slowly but surely pushing it towards shattering.
My heart pounded in my chest, my skin grew clammy, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to attempt to steady my emotions.
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