When my best friend left town for a work trip, she asked me to watch her house. I agreed, not knowing I’d uncover her husband’s betrayal—and his secret plan to take everything from her. But when I told her the truth, she didn’t thank me. She accused me instead.
They said friends were the family you chose. I used to believe that with all my heart. Jessica had been my best friend since college, and even after all these years, we remained close.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
We’d laughed, cried, and shared almost everything. But my intuition had never screamed louder than the day I met Mark, Jessica’s husband. Something about him felt wrong.
Cold eyes with a warm smile. Like someone pretending to be kind but hiding something darker underneath. I didn’t like him then. And I liked him even less now.
One day, Jessica and I were sitting on her porch, like we had so many times before.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The air was soft with late spring heat, warm but not heavy, and her cat, Taco, sprawled on the sunlit tiles like royalty, one paw twitching in a dream.
Jessica stirred honey into her tea, slow and quiet. Then she looked up at me with that guilty little smile I knew all too well—the kind she wore when she wanted something but didn’t want to ask.
“I need a favor,” Jessica said. Her voice was soft, like she already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “What kind of favor?”
She avoided my eyes. “I’m flying to New York next week. Big marketing pitch. I’ll be gone five days.”
I waited. She still hadn’t asked anything real.
“Could you check in on the house?” she added. “Feed Taco, water the plants, maybe bring in the mail. Just keep it from looking empty.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I raised an eyebrow. “And your husband? What’s he doing while you’re gone?”
She looked down at her tea. “He said it’s not really his thing.”
I blinked. “What’s not his thing?”ly
“Taking care of the house. Feeding the cat. He said it’s not a man’s job.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I scoffed and shook my head. “So, he can close real estate deals and wear cufflinks before noon, but a can of cat food is too much?”
Her jaw tightened. “Mark’s just not domestic. That’s just how he is.”
I leaned forward. “Jess, I love you. You know that. But you’re doing it again.”
She frowned. “Doing what?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You’re making excuses for him. Again. He doesn’t do much, but you keep defending him. Why?”
Her voice got louder. “You’ve never liked him. From day one. You always look for reasons to hate him.”
“I had reasons, Jess. I still do. My gut said no the moment I met him.”
She pointed a finger at me. “You’re alone, Lee. And that’s not his fault.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I flinched. That one hit hard, but I kept my voice steady. “You think I’m jealous? You think I want your life?”
She stood up and crossed her arms. “You never gave him a chance. You decided you didn’t like him before you even heard him speak.”
Before I could answer, the sliding door opened behind her. Mark walked out like he owned the world. Crisp polo. Perfect hair. Phone in hand, thumbs tapping.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“What are we talking about?” he said. “Me again?”
“Just your refusal to feed the cat,” I said.
He gave that smug smile I hated. “I delegate where it makes sense. It’s called efficiency.”
I turned to Jessica. “He hasn’t looked up from that phone. Who’s he texting so much?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“It’s work,” she said. “He has a big client. Real estate.”
I stared at his screen. “Must be a very flirty deal.”
Jessica slammed her glass down. “Enough. If you’re going to keep insulting him, maybe you shouldn’t help.”
I sighed. “I said I’d do it, and I will. For you. Not for him.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mark looked up. “Try not to rearrange the furniture.”
I smiled. “Wouldn’t want to upset your kingdom.”
But I was already planning to keep my eyes open.
It was late afternoon when I pulled into Jessica’s driveway. The sky looked strange—dark clouds rolled in slow, and the air felt still, like it was waiting for something bad to happen.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I parked and walked up the steps. The back door key was warm in my hand. I unlocked it and stepped inside.
Taco was there right away, rubbing against my leg, purring loud like always. He had no idea what was going on.
I bent down and gave him a quick scratch behind the ears. “Hey, buddy,” I whispered. “Let’s get you some food.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
I filled his bowl and poured some water, then walked around the kitchen. I checked the plants in the window and the mail on the counter. Everything looked normal. Too normal. That’s when I heard it.
Laughter.
A man’s voice—Mark. And then a woman’s laugh followed.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I froze at the bottom of the stairs. My heart pounded. I moved slowly, quietly as I could. The bedroom door was open just a little. I stepped closer and peeked in.
Mark was on the bed. Half his shirt was unbuttoned. Next to him was a woman wearing Jessica’s robe, sipping from her favorite glass like she owned the place.
“I told you it would work,” Mark said. He raised his glass and took a sip. “She signed it without reading. Didn’t even ask questions. Just trusted me like always.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The woman laughed. “Are you sure this gives you the house?”
Mark leaned back against the pillows. “Yes. Once I get it notarized on Friday, it’s done. She thinks it’s just boring bank papers. Something about refinancing. I made it sound simple.”
The woman looked around the room. “What about all her stuff? Clothes? Books?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He waved his hand. “We’ll throw out what we don’t want. Maybe sell a few things. I already packed some boxes. The rest is trash. The cat’s going too.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. She’s going to be crushed.”
Mark smirked. “She won’t be. We’ll be long gone before she knows. I’ve been looking at condos in Miami. Pool, gym, all that. This place will be listed by the time she gets back.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I felt sick. I couldn’t listen anymore. My foot hit the edge of the stairs. A soft creak.
Mark’s head turned. “Did you hear that?” he asked, voice sharp.
I didn’t wait. I ran. Down the stairs. Out the back door. Into my car. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone. I hit Jessica’s name.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Lee?” she answered. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a woman in your house. With Mark. I saw them. I heard everything. He tricked you into signing papers. He’s stealing your house.”
She didn’t answer right away.
Then she said, “You’re lying.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not. Jess, please believe me—”
“You’ve always hated him. You’ve been waiting for a reason to tear us apart. You’re jealous. And now you’re making up stories.”
“No, I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to protect you.”
Her voice turned cold. “Don’t call me again.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Click. The line went dead.
Later that evening, my doorbell rang. I opened it. Mark stood there. Calm. Hands in his pockets.
“She told me everything,” he said. “About your little story.”
I didn’t blink. “I’m not afraid of you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He stepped closer. “You should be. Keep pushing, and someone’s going to get hurt.”
I knew Jessica wouldn’t believe me unless she saw everything with her own eyes. Words wouldn’t be enough.
Not even tears would move her. Jessica was too in love with him. Too loyal. Too proud.
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She wouldn’t walk away without something solid. Proof she could touch. Proof she couldn’t explain away.
That’s why I did something I hated—something that felt cold and cruel, but also right.
I downloaded a fake call app. I set it up to look like the hospital was calling her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The message said I had been in a car accident. It said I was in the emergency room and not waking up.
I knew it was wrong to scare her like that, but it was the only thing that would pull her back fast.
And it worked.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Six hours later, there was a knock at my door. Jessica stood there, breathing hard. Her hair was messy. Her eyes were wide. She looked like she had run the whole way.
“Are you okay?” Jessica asked as she rushed inside. Her face was pale, and her breath came fast. She looked like she had been crying.
“I’m fine,” I said. “There was no accident. I’m not hurt. I made it up.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You lied to me?” she shouted. Her voice shook. “What the hell, Lee? Why would you do that?”
“Because you wouldn’t listen,” I said. “You wouldn’t hear me. I had to bring you back. I needed you to see it for yourself.”
She stared at me, her eyes wide and full of pain. For a moment, I thought she might hit me. But then she took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Show me.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
We drove to her house. Neither of us spoke. The silence felt heavy.
When we reached her block, I parked a few houses down. We got out and walked slowly. At her window, we stopped and looked inside.
Mark was on the couch with the same woman. They were kissing like they didn’t have a care in the world.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Jessica didn’t speak. She took out her phone. Her hands shook, but she snapped photo after photo. Her jaw tightened.
“I want to go inside,” she said.
We walked to the door. It was unlocked.
Inside, everything was different. The scent of her favorite candle was gone.
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The hallway was cold and quiet. Black trash bags lined the wall. Boxes were stacked on top of each other.
Sharp words written across them: “JUNK,” “DONATE,” “TRASH.” Her life was being packed away like it meant nothing.
Jessica’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Mark!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He turned around fast, eyes wide. “Jessica? What the hell are you doing here?”
She stepped forward. Her voice was loud. Her hands were tight fists at her sides. “What am I doing here? Are you serious? You liar! You cheat! You’re throwing away my life like it’s trash!”
The woman on the couch jumped up. She grabbed her purse and started moving toward the door. “I’ll just—”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Sit down!” Jessica snapped. “I’m not finished.”
Mark raised both hands. “Jess, wait. This isn’t what it looks like.”
She laughed, but it sounded sharp and cold. “Not what it looks like? You’re kissing another woman in my house! She’s wearing my robe. Drinking from my glass. You tossed my things in garbage bags. And you’re telling her my house is yours now?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Mark looked nervous. “You signed the papers. You didn’t even read them.”
“You tricked me,” Jessica said. Her voice was shaking now. “You told me it was for refinancing. You stood in front of me and lied.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They’re signed. It’s legal. It’s done. You just ruined everything.”
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Then he turned to me and pointed. “This is her fault. Lee. She’s been against me from the start. She poisoned your mind.”
Jessica took one step toward him. “No, Mark. You did this all by yourself. Lee told the truth. You think you can break me? You think you can take everything I own and leave me with nothing?”
She shook her head. “You’ll be left with nothing. Just your ego. And that won’t help you now.”
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Mark’s face twisted. “You’ll regret this.”
“No,” Jessica said. Her voice was calm now. “You will.”
She pointed at the door. “Get out. Both of you. I don’t want to see either of you in this house again.”
The woman ran out first. She didn’t look back. Mark stood there a second longer.
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His jaw was tight. His fists clenched. Then he turned and walked out. He slammed the door behind him.
Jessica didn’t move. She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just stood there. Still and quiet.
I looked at her. “You’re awfully calm.”
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She turned to me. “Because I already knew. I’ve felt it for a while. I knew he was cheating. I saw the strange paperwork. I just didn’t want to believe it. I needed proof.”
“You could’ve told me,” I said.
“I didn’t want it to feel fake,” she said. “I needed him to think I still trusted him. And I needed you to act normal. You did.”
I nodded. “So… you used me?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She shook her head. “No. I trusted you. Even when I acted like I didn’t. You stood by me.”
“I always will,” I said.
She gave me a small smile. Then she looked at the bags and boxes. “Let’s clean this up. I’ve got a life to rebuild.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: When I found out my husband and my best friend were having an affair, I thought nothing could hurt more. But then my own mother asked me to hand over my children to them — as if I didn’t matter at all. I was broken, but I knew one thing: I wouldn’t let them win.
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…
A mother with two kids | Source: Pexels
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
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
“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
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
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
“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
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
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 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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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,” 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
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
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
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
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