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36. H E N R Y

The air in my office carries a heaviness, thick with the tension of unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. The mahogany furniture exudes an aura of timeless elegance, standing witness to the familial drama that unfolds within its walls. Chris, my brother, leans casually against the intricately carved bookshelf, a raised brow signalling his anticipation for the impending revelation.

"Now, don't judge me. Who am I kidding, you're going to, whether I like it or not," I mutter, the weight of my decision hanging in the air like an unspoken decree. The golden hue of the room accentuates the gravity of the moment, casting long shadows on the polished wooden floor.

Chris, ever the stoic observer, raises a sceptical brow, waiting with the patience of someone accustomed to my tendency to put my foot in my mouth. His eyes, a deep shad

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