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... ode in, carrying a thick stack of papers tucked under his arm. The doors closed gradually after he stepped through, ending it with a soft click.

I looked expectantly at Mother, wondering when she would start her scolding. Knowing her, harsh would be the gentlest option she’d consider. But instead, Mother kept staring at Father, who stared right back.

Their facial muscles were unflinching, it was like a staring contest.

The silence was thick you could cut it with a butter ...

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