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... evening tea. She took small sips while her eyes were still swollen from crying.

Noticing her daughter’s lingering sadness, Samyra reached out gently. "Are you sure everything’s alright, Flora?" she asked again, her voice laced with quiet worry.

"Yes, Mom," Flora replied, offering a strained smile, one that barely masked the turmoil within her.

David glanced at her, concern etched into the lines of his face. He sighed. "Amelie still hasn’t come to see us," he murmured.

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