She thought she could bluff her way through dinner. One harmless spice, one casual question, and suddenly the room felt too small. Her mother-in-law’s gentle laugh wasn’t cruel—but it pierced years of silent pretending. If paprika wasn’t “basic,” what else wasn’t? How many moments had she survived on performance instead of honesty? The goulash simmered, and so did every hidden insec… Continues…
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