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𝗙𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘀

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𝗙𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘀. 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆'𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀.

𝗦𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗲.

𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗱 𝗮𝘀 𝗜 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱, 𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱.

𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗔 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝗮𝘀 𝗜'𝗺 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱. 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗜
𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲.

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲.

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𝗔 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗛𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱
𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴. 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱.

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿.

𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿. 𝗞𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱, 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝗺.

"𝗙𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁!" 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝘆. 𝗢𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱
𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴.

"𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁? 𝗜'𝘀 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗻𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹. 𝗔 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲, 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂."

𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘄𝗻𝘆. 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗿
𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘆.

𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲. 𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮
𝗰𝗼𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱? 𝗪𝗵𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗵𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿?

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗲𝗻, 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿.

𝗣𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹. 𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗽𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹.

"𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲? 𝗚𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲!" 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱.

𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵. 𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.


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