“You have a lot to explain!” my father snarls, pointing to the chair across from him. He steeples his hands on the desk, glaring at me like I’m some errant employee or, worse, a rebellious child.
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“You have a lot to explain!” my father snarls, pointing to the chair across from him. He steeples his hands on the desk, glaring at me like I’m some errant employee or, worse, a rebellious child.