Pressure

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Claire was in the middle of stuffing
her face with tortilla chips when Diana entered her bedroom with a disappointed expression. "He won," she grumbled before sitting on her daughter's bed.

The mattress deformed slightly because of Diane's weight, like how a sponge reacts when grabbed. Claire was confused about what her mother had meant. Who was "he," and what did he win? A prize? A game?

"Michael won the argument. He gets to have you," Diana explained before sighing and covering her face with her hands. "Pack up everything you need, because he's coming to pick you up in a few minutes."

The sudden and unexpected change in her usual routine stressed Claire out and caused her to start sobbing.
Why did Daddy want to have her stay at his house now? It was only Monday, and she didn't go there until Friday!
This wasn't right!

"I know that you don't want to leave, Claire, but you have to get ready," Diana said in an attempt to comfort her daughter, which only ended up making her more upset; Claire threw everything that she could grab onto the ground: pillows, books, her stim and fidget toys, the bag of chips she was eating earlier, all while repeating wailing, "I don't wanna go!"

By the time that Diana had calmed Claire down and packed her bag up for her, Michael had already arrived in his truck and pulled up into Diana's driveway, impatient as always.

"Hurry up!" He barked as he honked the horn a couple times, startling both his daughter and his ex-wife; the noise was even more audible because the front door was open.

Diana had just enough time to gently kiss Claire on the forehead and finish zipping up her hoodie before Michael barged through the front door, roughly grabbed Claire's wrist, and practically threw her into the backseat of his truck.

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