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By the time morning rolled around, my brain felt like a bowl of mashed potatoes. I'd spent half the night tackling the pile of homework I'd set aside during my "mandatory family therapy" retreat, and the dark circles under my eyes could definitely qualify as a mini tragedy.
As I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, the comforting smell of pancakes and coffee enveloped me. Mom was humming softly as she helped the maids in setting the table, while Keith sat at the table, scrolling through his emails on his tablet as usual. The morning light streamed through the wide glass windows, casting a warm golden hue over everything. For once, the atmosphere felt light and free of tension.
