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Robert took the microphone, his large, work-roughened hand closing around the cool metal. He cleared his throat and began to speak. His voice, usually quiet and calm, was now firm and steady, filling the cavernous room.
He paused. Even Eleanor, sensing a shift in the atmosphere, leaned forward slightly, a small frown creasing her brow.
“Since this seems to be an evening for revelations,” Robert continued, his gaze now fixed directly on Eleanor, “an evening for speaking the truth, then I will speak my truth, too. My daughter, Anna, grew up in a simple family. We didn’t have luxury. We didn’t take fancy vacations. But she was always surrounded by love and care. I worked day and night to give her everything I could. And I am proud of the woman she has become: honest, kind, and decent.”
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