The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of strained conversations and awkward silences. We moved through the motions of our usual Sunday routine, but everything felt different now, as though a crack had appeared in the foundation of our family.
I spent the evening alone in my room, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on me. I knew that the coming days would be difficult, that the meeting with the family legal counsel would be a turning point.
But for now, all I could do was brace myself for the storm that was sure to follow.
The next morning, the house was quiet as I made my way to the kitchen. My parents were already there, sitting at the table with their coffee cups in hand.
“We need to figure this out,” my father said, breaking the silence that had settled over us.
I nodded, knowing that there was no turning back now.
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