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... as I stepped into my residence, my mother, Lucia, ran into me.
“Luan...!”
My mother ran toward me as her golden hair swayed erratically.
“W-wait. I’m still dirt—”
I wasn’t able to finish my sentence as my mother hugged me.
I could see her clean dress being ruined by the dirt and dust I was covered in.
“Mother.”
“Really,” my mother said in a quiet voice. “...I’m glad you’re okay.”
“...”
I swallowed what I was going to say wh ...
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