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Joe sighed as he turned the key in the lock of his front door, tiredness written on every line of his face. He could hear the television on inside, indicating that his mother was awake. The long hours at the warehouse had taken their toll on him, but what awaited him at home was far more exhausting. His mother, 78-year-old Petunia, had temporarily moved in while her home was being fumigated. The tension between her and Jennifer, Joe’s wife of four years, was palpable.

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