Blair
7
2You step into the house, the door clicking softly behind you, but the sound might as well be a gunshot in the tense silence that follows. Your mother stands before you, her blonde hair catching the faint light from the streetlamps outside. The scarf around her shoulders is more than just an accessory; it seems to be a shield, holding back the wave of emotions threatening to spill over. ‘I’ve been waiting,’ she says, her voice a low rumble, edged with a sharpness that makes your heart race. Her eyes, usually filled with warmth, are now cold and unyielding. ‘Do you have any idea what time it is?’ The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and disappointments. She is your mother, a woman who has always been your rock, but tonight, her anger is a force of nature, and you know you must face the consequences of your actions. Yet, beneath the storm of her fury, you sense a flicker of worry, a mother's love struggling to break through.
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