My 7-Year-Old Drew a Picture of My Husband with Another Woman and Wrote, ‘I Can’t Wait for You to Be My Mom’

When Amber, a hardworking mom and corporate attorney, discovers a drawing by her 7-year-old daughter, Mia, her world is shaken. The picture shows Mia’s teacher in Amber’s place with a heartbreaking caption. Suspecting betrayal, Amber confronts her husband, Jack, only to uncover something deeper… Mia’s feelings of abandonment amidst Amber’s busy life.

I didn’t think I’d be here… but this has been life lately.

A woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

I’m Livia, I’m thirty-four, married to my husband Jack for ten years, and I’m a mom to my bundle of joy, Mia, a seven-year-old little girl. Recently, I’ve been busier than I’ve ever been in my entire life, which is truly saying something because I’m a corporate attorney.

My mom’s health has been declining over the past year, and we’ve been throwing ourselves into her hospital stays, therapy sessions, and medication that costs way more than I care to admit.

To cover everything, I’ve been working insane hours because I’d do anything for my mother.

A woman sitting in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

Anything.

Jack has been the best partner and rock I could have ever asked for. He has stepped up at home in ways I never imagined or expected. Jack has taken on the cooking, cleaning, helping Mia with her schoolwork, and managing all the little things I used to handle.

He made it possible for me to keep everything afloat, even when it felt like I was drowning.

A father and daughter duo sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A father and daughter duo sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

But last night, everything changed before I could even catch my breath.

I came home late, exhausted, starving, and ready to collapse. After hurriedly eating a bowl of salmon and rice while Mia took her bath, I put my little girl to bed. As she dozed off, Mia mumbled something about puppets.

“I didn’t know that you could put your hand in a socket and it would be a puppet,” she said.

A green sock puppet | Source: Midjourney

A green sock puppet | Source: Midjourney

“A sock, my darling,” I said. “Not a socket! Don’t you ever put your hand in a socket, Mia.”

She giggled.

“Okay, Momma,” she said, yawning.

A yawning little girl | Source: Midjourney

A yawning little girl | Source: Midjourney

I started tidying up her dolls, which were scattered all over the carpet in her room, and then made my way to the coffee table in the living room. Crayons, white paper, and coloring books were scattered all over.

That’s when I found it. A drawing.

At first glance, it seemed innocent enough. A kid’s sketch of a happy family. A man, a woman, and a little girl holding hands. But when I looked closer, my stomach twisted.

A woman gathering crayons | Source: Midjourney

A woman gathering crayons | Source: Midjourney

The man was unmistakably Jack. The little girl was clearly Mia. But the woman? Definitely not me.

She had long brown hair and wore a flowing bridal gown. Beneath the drawing, in Mia’s little handwriting, were the words that broke my heart:

I can’t wait for you to be my mom!

It felt like the ground beneath me had given way.

A child's drawing | Source: Midjourney

A child’s drawing | Source: Midjourney

I took the picture to Mia’s bed and sat on the edge, trying to wake her up enough to get answers.

“Darling girl, can you tell me about this drawing?” I asked her calmly.

“What drawing, Momma?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

When Mia took a look at the drawing, her face turned red, and she snatched the paper out of my hand, clutching it to her chest.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

“You weren’t supposed to find that! Daddy said to hide it better!” she blurted out.

Hide it better? Jack? Hide what better?

My heart started pounding. What was going on? Was Jack cheating? And what was worse… was Mia already imagining this other woman as her mom?

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

I barely slept that night. My mind was running miles per hour. I thought about my mother, I thought about the work I still needed to do before heading to the office the next day, and I thought about my marriage…

By the morning, I had gone through a storm of worst-case scenarios. I sat in the kitchen, waiting for Jack to get ready for work. Mia had already left for school.

“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the drawing into his hands.

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened, and his face turned pale.

“You told her to hide it?” I asked. “You actually told Mia to hide it?”

“Wait, wait,” he stammered, holding up his hands defensively. “It’s not what you think, Amber. Let me explain it all to you.”

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“You have exactly five seconds, Jack. I’ve been going crazy the entire night.”

My husband ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed.

“Come with me,” he said.

“What? Where are we going? What about work?” I asked.

A man standing in a kitchen with his head bowed down | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a kitchen with his head bowed down | Source: Midjourney

“We’re going to Mia’s school. I need to show you something,” he said.

I wanted to scream at him, but something in his voice, an urgency that didn’t feel like guilt, made me agree.

The drive to the school was tense and silent, my mind still racing. What would Jack show me at Mia’s school that would change anything? Was there an imaginary friend or imaginary step-in mother waiting for us?

An upset woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

When we arrived at the school, Jack squeezed my knee. As we walked to the reception area, he squeezed my hand and asked to see Mia’s teacher, Clara.

As soon as Clara walked in, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. She was stunning, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why I hadn’t met her before. She had long brown hair, a bright smile, and an effortlessly bubbly demeanor.

She had to be the woman from Mia’s drawing, it was unmistakable.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

She smiled at Jack, and I wanted to scream.

“Clara,” Jack said. “Can you explain to my wife what’s been happening with Mia?”

Clara’s expression shifted to confusion but then softened as she glanced at me.

“Oh, of course,” she said.

A stressed woman | Source: Midjourney

A stressed woman | Source: Midjourney

She gestured for us to sit in the little room adjacent to the reception.

“Look, Mia’s been having a tough time lately,” she began. “She’s mentioned feeling like her mom doesn’t have time for her anymore. I’ve tried to reassure her, but she’s… well, look, she’s seven. And she’s been drawing a lot of pictures to process her feelings.”

Clara handed me a stack of drawings, and my heart sank as I flipped through them.

A stack of children's drawings and coloring books | Source: Midjourney

A stack of children’s drawings and coloring books | Source: Midjourney

Most were variations of the same theme. A happy family with Clara in my place. On the back of one of the drawings, there were more words I hadn’t noticed the first time:

Daddy and Clara.

“So, you’ve been spending time with my daughter?” I asked, unable to hide the edge in my voice.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, of course,” she said. “But only in class, and I’m her teacher, after all. She stays after class sometimes to help me tidy up. She told me she feels like she’s losing her mom because you’re always busy. I’m so sorry if I overstepped. I’d never want to interfere…”

I turned to Jack, my chest tight.

“And you? What did you say to her about this?”

A stressed man | Source: Midjourney

A stressed man | Source: Midjourney

Jack looked miserable.

“I found that picture last week,” he admitted. “I told Mia it wasn’t true, that you love her more than anything. But I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want to make it worse by bringing it up when you were already so stressed out. I told her to put the drawing away because I knew it would hurt you.”

“You should have told me, Jack,” I said softly.

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

I honestly didn’t know what to think.

Jack nodded, guilt in his eyes.

“I know, love,” he said. “I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I just made it worse.”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

My anger began to deflate, replaced by a wave of guilt so heavy it nearly knocked me off my seat. This wasn’t about Jack cheating or Clara overstepping. It was about my daughter, her sadness, her confusion, and her way of coping with my absence.

That night, I sat down with Mia at the kitchen table. I had dished us bowls of ice cream with all the toppings, hoping for a bonding moment between us.

Bowls of ice cream | Source: Midjourney

Bowls of ice cream | Source: Midjourney

“Sweetheart,” I said softly. “I need to tell you something. I know I haven’t been around as much lately, and I’m so, so sorry. Grandma needs a lot of help right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. You’re my everything, sweet girl.”

Mia’s eyes filled with tears, and she threw her arms around me.

“I thought maybe you didn’t like me anymore,” she whispered.

A little girl sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A little girl sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

My heart shattered.

“I love you more than anything,” I said, holding her tightly. “Nothing will ever change that.”

In the weeks that followed, I made several lifestyle changes.

I cut back on work hours and asked my siblings to take on more of our mom’s care. Jack and I started a “Mom and Mia” night every week, just the two of us, doing whatever she wanted.

A little girl decorating cookies | Source: Midjourney

A little girl decorating cookies | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes it was baking cookies, other times it was a movie night, or building a fort, or sometimes it was just us dressing up and going on a date together.

I also had a heartfelt talk with Clara to thank her for being a wonderful teacher and being there for Mia when I couldn’t be.

She apologized again for any boundaries she might have crossed, but I reassured her that Mia’s drawings weren’t her fault.

A blanket fort in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A blanket fort in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“I just feel bad, Amber,” she said as she cleaned up paintbrushes.

“I know, but you really shouldn’t, Clara,” I said. “You became a safe space for Mia, and you reminded her of how loved and cared for she is. That’s something I’ll always appreciate.”

Life isn’t perfect, but it’s a lot better. I’m learning to ask for help and to show Mia that she comes first. And now, every time she picks up her crayons, I make sure I’m sitting right next to her.

A smiling mother and daughter duo | Source: Midjourney

A smiling mother and daughter duo | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you: Sam used to be a mama’s boy, always clinging to Candice and lighting up at the sight of her. But one day, that changed. He started avoiding her hugs, her kisses, and even her presence. At first, I thought it was just a phase. But there was more to it. Much more.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Husband Went to Friend’s Wedding for 3 Days, Leaving Me and Kids $20 — He Fell to His Knees after What He Saw upon Returning

Iris’s husband left her and the kids with a meager $20 for three days while he attended a wedding alone. Frustrated and desperate, she made a bold move to teach him a lesson. When he returned, the sight before him made him fall to his knees and burst into tears.

Hey there! Iris here. My life isn’t all sunshine and roses, even though it might seem that way from the outside. I’m a stay-at-home mom, juggling an eight-year-old firecracker named Ollie and a sassy six-year-old princess, Sophie…

My husband, Paul, works a stable job and brings home the bacon, or rather the chicken these days. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a fantastic dad, showers the kids with gifts, and makes sure we have everything we need.

But here’s the thing, after our second child, things shifted. Paul started focusing more on work and less on us. Gone were the days of spontaneous movie nights or romantic dinners. Now, whenever I’d suggest something, it’d always be “work stress” or needing “me time.” I brushed it off initially, but lately, it’s been gnawing at me.

A man heading to office | Source: Pexels

A man heading to office | Source: Pexels

Last week, something happened that threw a wrench into our already strained relationship. Paul came home early, beaming, announcing a half-day off for his friend Alex’s wedding. He said he would be gone for three days.

A spark of excitement ignited in me! Maybe this could be our little escape, a few days away from the constant demands of motherhood and household. But my balloon of hope quickly popped when I found out ONLY HE was invited.

Iris is so thrilled, only to be shattered moments later | Source: Midjourney

Iris is so thrilled, only to be shattered moments later | Source: Midjourney

“Why not me?” I pouted, disappointment clouding my voice.

Paul explained that Alex was a “bit strange” and wanted a close-knit gathering without partners. Now, that struck me as odd.

“Are there any single women attending?” I probed, biting my nails, a nervous habit I just can’t seem to kick.

An annoyed man | Source: Pexels

An annoyed man | Source: Pexels

Paul furrowed his brows, his mood shifting from casual to irritated. “Iris, come on,” he mumbled, and sensing his annoyance, I backtracked with a playful, “Just kidding! Stay away from those single ladies, alright?!”

Big mistake. He took it as a full-blown accusation, and before you know it, we were embroiled in a massive fight. Paul accused me of being suspicious, of dictating his every move. He even started lecturing me on the “secrets to a strong relationship,” making me feel like a paranoid control freak.

A furious man | Source: Pexels

A furious man | Source: Pexels

But hey, I wasn’t completely wrong, was I? I snapped, reminding him how he constantly prioritized his “me time” with friends, leaving me home alone with the kids.

“I want to enjoy life too, Paul!” I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes. “What’s the point of all this money if you’re never here?”

That’s when things got scary. Paul was practically glaring daggers at me. Then, in a move that left me speechless, he pulled out a measly $20 bill.

Man holding $20 | Source: Freepik

Man holding $20 | Source: Freepik

“Here,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “if you don’t need my money, run the house on this for three days while I’m gone!”

He shoved the cash into my hand and stormed out of the house before I could utter another word. My jaw hung slack, anger and disbelief swirling inside me. Did he seriously think I could run a household with three hungry members on a meager $20? The audacity!

Iris is visibly shaken | Source: Midjourney

Iris is visibly shaken | Source: Midjourney

Tears threatening to spill, I raced to the fridge, clinging to a sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was enough food to last for three days.

But as I swung open the door, my heart sank. The fridge was practically bare, containing only a row of Ollie’s brightly colored juice boxes, a lone pickle, and less than a dozen eggs. This wasn’t going to work. We needed groceries, and with only $20, I felt completely stranded.

A nearly empty refrigerator | Source: Pexels

A nearly empty refrigerator | Source: Pexels

Anger simmered within me. Paul knew our financial situation; I didn’t have any hidden stash of cash. He was deliberately trying to make a point, and guess what? It backfired. Now, I was determined to get revenge, to make him understand the struggle I faced every single day. But how?

My gaze darted around the room, landing on the glass cabinet where Paul kept his prized collection of antique coins. They were like trophies to him, each one with a story, some dating back to his great-grandfather’s era.

An assortment of antique coins on display | Source: Midjourney

An assortment of antique coins on display | Source: Midjourney

An evil glint flickered in my eyes. Maybe these could be the key to getting some groceries and teaching my husband a little lesson.

My heart raced as I reached for the glass cabinet. Guilt gnawed at the edges of my determination, but the image of the empty fridge and Paul’s flippant challenge fueled me.

With trembling hands, I gathered the coins, their smooth surfaces cold against my skin. Each clink against the glass echoed in the room, a tiny betrayal chipping away at my conscience.

Iris gathers the antique coins | Source: Midjourney

Iris gathers the antique coins | Source: Midjourney

Ignoring the rising tide of guilt, I raced to the local antique shop, a place I’d only ever admired from afar. The owner, a wiry man with a silver goatee, squinted at the coins through a magnifying glass.

My breath hitched in my throat. Would these even sell? But then, his voice, gruff but surprisingly cheerful, broke the tense silence. “Seven hundred dollars,” he announced, his eyes twinkling.

An antique store owner inspecting the coins | Source: Midjourney

An antique store owner inspecting the coins | Source: Midjourney

Relief washed over me so intense it felt like I could breathe again. “Sold!” I blurted, practically shoving the coins into his surprised hands.

The guilt, however, resurfaced with a vengeance as I clutched the wad of cash. This wasn’t just revenge anymore; it was a betrayal of Paul’s trust. But the thought of my children’s hungry faces spurred me on.

Woman counting cash | Source: Pexels

Woman counting cash | Source: Pexels

With a spring in my step, I stormed to the grocery store, filling my cart with mountains of fresh produce, enough meat to last a week, and a mountain of treats for the kids.

A part of me reveled in the freedom of not having to check the price tags, but a larger part ached for the trust I’d shattered.

As I unpacked the groceries back home, humming along to a classic playing on the gramophone, a dark shadow of apprehension loomed over me. How would Paul react when he saw his beloved coins missing?

Woman grocery shopping | Source: Unsplash

Woman grocery shopping | Source: Unsplash

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the delicious aroma of the chicken casserole wafting from the oven. Tonight, dinner would be a feast fit for a king, or rather, a queen!

Three days crawled by, each minute stretching into an eternity. The silence in the house was deafening without Paul’s usual grumbles or the constant barrage of questions from the kids. Just as despair started to creep in, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway jolted me back to life.

A car outside the house | Source: Unsplash

A car outside the house | Source: Unsplash

I raced to the window, peeking through the blinds. There stood Paul, a sight that sent chills down my spine.

A wide, almost manic grin stretched across his face, completely out of character. In his arms, he cradled two grocery bags, overflowing with fresh produce and what looked like enough fruit to feed a small army.

Man holding a grocery bag | Source: Freepik

Man holding a grocery bag | Source: Freepik

This wasn’t the sight I’d braced myself for. This was… uncanny. My heart pounded as Paul practically skipped towards the front door, whistling a cheerful tune.

The door flung open and he barreled in. “Iris, my love!” he boomed, his voice uncharacteristically loud. “You won’t believe the deals I found! Fresh strawberries for half the price, and look at these juicy mangoes!” He thrust the bags at me, his eyes sparkling with a manic glint.

A cheerful man smiling | Source: Pexels

A cheerful man smiling | Source: Pexels

I stood frozen, the groceries a heavy weight in my suddenly numb arms. “Paul…” I stammered.

He didn’t seem to hear me. He launched into a torrent of apologies, each one delivered with an unsettling enthusiasm. He confessed his wrongs, admitted the stinginess, and swore he wouldn’t leave me stranded again.

A startled, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

A startled, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

Then, his eyes darted towards the trophy case. His smile faltered, replaced by a dawning horror. He took a hesitant step towards the glass cabinet, then another, his movements slow and deliberate.

My breath hitched in my throat. In the heart-stopping silence, the click of his shoes against the hardwood floor echoed like a death knell. He reached out, his hand hovering over the empty space where his prized coin collection once resided.

An extremely heartbroken man | Source: Pexels

An extremely heartbroken man | Source: Pexels

The world seemed to slow down. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Shame, guilt, and a crushing fear coiled in my gut. Paul’s joy had evaporated, replaced by a chilling stillness.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He simply crumpled to his knees and burst into tears, saying, “MY COINS??!”

An extremely upset man bursting into tears | Source: Pexels

An extremely upset man bursting into tears | Source: Pexels

The sound shattered the suffocating silence, and a torrent of apologies spilled from my lips, each one a desperate attempt to mend the damage I’d done. But Paul remained silent, his face crumpled with a profound hurt that pierced my soul.

Without another word, he rose to his feet, a haunted look in his eyes as he walked past me. Just as he reached the door, he turned back one last time, his gaze locking onto mine. It was a look of utter betrayal, a silent scream that spoke volumes.

A sad man's eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief | Source: Unsplash

A sad man’s eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief | Source: Unsplash

Then, with a quiet click of the doorknob, he was gone.

Tears streamed down my face, each one a bitter drop of regret. I had a mess to fix, and it was entirely of my own making.

I raced to the nearest pawnshop. There, under the harsh fluorescent lights, I surrendered my late grandmother’s ring, a precious heirloom gifted on my wedding day. The money it fetched was enough to cover all the coins.

Woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

Woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

I sprinted back to the antique shop, the money clutched tightly in my sweaty palms. The bell above the shop door chimed as I burst in. The owner, thankfully, recognized me.

“Can I help you again?” he inquired, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.

My face turned crimson as I spoke. “Actually, I’d like to buy the coins back.”

The antique shop owner recognizes Iris | Source: Midjourney

The antique shop owner recognizes Iris | Source: Midjourney

He squinted at me, a shrewd glint in his eyes. “Buy them back? You just sold them to me three days ago.”

“Yes, I know,” I confessed, my voice thick with shame. “It’s a long story, but it was a foolish mistake,” My voice cracked. “I just… I need them back. Please.”

A desperate and teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

A desperate and teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

The gruff man softened slightly. He studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Alright, tell you what,” he said, “Since you’re the original seller, I’ll give you a discount. But it won’t be the same price you sold them for.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave. “I understand,” I rasped, tears welling up again. “Anything you ask, I’ll pay it.”

Iris pleads with the antique store owner | Source: Midjourney

Iris pleads with the antique store owner | Source: Midjourney

The transaction was swift, and moments later, I was clutching the familiar weight of the coins in my bag. My pulse quickened. Would it be enough to mend the broken trust?

The walk home was a blur. Every passing second felt like an eternity. As I reached into the driveway, my stomach churned with nervous butterflies. The house was eerily silent.

Paul wasn’t home yet.

Iris manages to get Paul's antique coins back | Source: Midjourney

Iris manages to get Paul’s antique coins back | Source: Midjourney

I walked towards the glass cabinet and carefully arranged the coins back in their rightful places.

When I finished, a small smile bloomed on my face. “I did it!” I exclaimed. When Paul returned home, I turned to him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“There,” I whispered, pointing at the trophy case. “They’re back!”

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, a single tear rolled down Paul’s cheek.

Iris retrieves Paul's beloved antique coin collection | Source: Midjourney

Iris retrieves Paul’s beloved antique coin collection | Source: Midjourney

“Iris,” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “We need to talk.”

The knot in my stomach tightened. “Yes,” I choked out, tears welling up in my eyes again. “We do.”

We talked for hours that night. We spoke of our frustrations, our unspoken needs, and the chasm that had grown between us over time. The conversation was raw, painful, and ultimately, necessary.

Iris is relieved | Source: Midjourney

Iris is relieved | Source: Midjourney

There were no easy answers. Trust, once broken, takes time and effort to rebuild. But as we sat there, holding onto each other, a fragile peace settled between us.

The ordeal with the coins had been a catalyst, a wake-up call that forced us to confront the cracks in our relationship. We learned a harsh lesson — communication, not revenge, is the key to a strong marriage.

Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

That day, I realized that misunderstandings and arguments are inevitable, but it’s crucial to resolve them rather than escalate. Every family faces challenges that test their strength and make them stronger.

I also learned the importance of trust in a relationship and vowed never to doubt my husband’s loyalty, even in jest. They say “a happy wife is a happy life,” but both partners deserve happiness. In a healthy relationship, happiness should be a shared journey, not a prize for one.

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

In the days that followed, we started rebuilding, brick by brick. It was slow, messy work, but we were committed to making it work. We realized that a happy marriage wasn’t a destination, but a journey — a journey we were determined to navigate together, hand in hand.

A peaceful couple | Source: Unsplash

A peaceful couple | Source: Unsplash

Here’s another story: When Josephine found an ordinary bottle of men’s hair lotion in her bathroom, little did she know it would reveal a shocking truth about her bald husband and shatter their 20-year marriage.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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