Tamsin's morning ritual was more or less set in stone: she rolled out of bed, she stumbled downstairs, she put some food in her mouth, then she headed back upstairs to find less comfortable but more flattering clothes. This ritual proceeded more or less apace, as she squinted in the mirror once, yanked on a t-shirt, and then headed downstairs
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Another deeply unimpressed child wandered into the house in search of someone who might have been her mother. "Hi, mom."
Hi, other child that Ylva was judging for existing.
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