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The room was quiet after the call ended. I could still hear my father’s voice echoing in my head, the same calm tone that always carried the weight of a threat underneath. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. He said enough with just one sentence.

"Come home. All of you."

He hung up after that, leaving the silence to do the rest.

Marco was pacing near the window, arms folded tight. Mateo sat on the couch, his hand pressed against his jaw like he was holding ...

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