Amelia stormed into her apartment. Her frustration was visible on her face.
“Claire, you know I don’t have time for this,” she snapped, slamming the door behind her. Claire was already sitting on the couch, her posture slumped, anxiety and fear etched on her face. “I have enough on my plate without having to clean up the mess you’ve created.” Her tone was sharp, laced with annoyance and disgust.
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