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I opened the front door to be greeted by the scent of food.
Dad was cooking dinner.

I smiled, walking into the kitchen to see him plating two hearty portions of lasagna.

He looked up, greeting me silently and ushering me to the table.

"How was your day?" He asked, placing my food in front of me.

"Alright." I said, poking my lasagna with my fork.

We ate silently for a few minutes, I had a mouthful of tomatoes and pushed my plate away, declaring that I was full.

"Come on, I spent ages making this and you eat one forkful and bin it?" My dad asked, sighing.

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat it. Molly, I mean it!"

"No! I'm not hungry!" Tears were forming at my eyes and I looked away.

My dad suddenly stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder, "I don't know what you were doing last night, or why you were crying.. But I'm here for you, Molly."

Don't tell him. He'll hate you.

"I- I... I'm fine!" I stammered, before turning and fleeing the room.

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