The morning sunlight cut through the curtains, casting long slashes of light across the living room. But the brightness did little to illuminate the tension that had been simmering in our house for weeks. By the time I woke, the air already carried the sound of frustration: high-pitched, panicked, and unmistakably familiar. Emily. My younger sister. And she was in full meltdown mode. I could hear her stomping up the stairs, a relentless force of irritation and desperation. Every thump on the wooden…
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