SARAH In Anthonio's office, we waited anxiously, my parents and I, hoping for a miracle. Anthonio finally waddled in, a repulsive sight, with his protruding belly threatening to burst. As he sluggishly made his way to his seat, his audible breath filled the room, grating on my already frayed nerves. But we had no choice but to endure; we needed his help, nothing more. "How may I be of help to you?," Anthonio's voice boomed, sounding like a gorilla in a bad temper. My father proceeded to recount the agonizing details of our bankrupt hotel, and surprisingly, Anthonio seemed genuinely interested. "I've heard all you said, and I'm going to help you out," came his abrupt response. Relief washed over my parents, their faces lit up with smiles, thinking that all our problems were about to disappear. "But... I have a condition," Anthonio interjected, crushing their hope-filled smiles. "There's a beautiful flower in your possession, and I'd like to have it," he continued, a smug look on
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