I entered the building, familiar faces greeting me as I made my way through the lobby. The receptionist, who knew me from the countless times my mom had brought me here in the past, waved me through without needing an appointment. It felt strange being back after so long—like stepping into a time warp where everything was the same, yet everything had changed.My mom's office was on the 20th floor, so I stepped into the elevator, pressing the button and watching the numbers climb. As the doors opened, I stepped out and walked down the hallway. People were busy at their desks, typing away or talking on phones. I moved toward my mom’s chamber at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar.Just as I was about to push it open, I heard her voice, and my dad’s name stopped me in my tracks.“Robert, please!” my mom’s tone was pleading, a sound I wasn’t used to hearing from her. I froze, narrowing my eyes, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Why was she pleading with my dad? What cou
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