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I showed up at Christmas dinner with a cast on my foot, a smile on

The officer’s presence in the room was like a sudden, chilling draft. The warmth and festive cheer that had been painstakingly adorned over the past few days evaporated instantly. My son, Jeffrey, shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his laughter and bravado fading with each step the officer took towards the dining room.

“Good evening,” the officer said, his voice calm but firm, an authority that couldn’t be ignored even amidst the glittering decorations of the season. “I’m here to discuss an incident reported earlier today.”

Silence stretched across the room, punctuated only by the soft rustling of the Christmas tree’s branches under the weight of the ornaments. My daughter-in-law, who had played her part convincingly, was now wide-eyed and speechless. Jeffrey looked at me, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief as he tried to gauge how serious this was going to get.

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