Perhaps out of guilt, my parents simply exchanged awkward smiles, avoiding eye contact.I picked up my fork, taking bite after bite of food, forcing it down. After a moment, I put on a pained, confused expression and told them I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to go upstairs to rest.Of course, my parents agreed without question.As I took one last glance from the stairs, the emotions I had hidden for so long finally began to seep through. I couldn’t hold back my frustration any longer and asked, “When I was growing up as an orphan, life was so hard, and I wished I had parents. Mom, Dad... you love me, don’t you?”The childish question hit them like a slap in the face. They stared at me, speechless and hesitant, but that hesitation was all I needed to see.Their faces paled, but they said nothing.I forced a smile, making it easier for them to uphold their lie. “I must be talking nonsense. After all, if you didn’t love me, why would you have brought me back into the family? You
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