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Death of tomorrow night.

Lanes Street.

"Hey, Christa." Mr Richardson poked his head into Christa's room. "you're still up. You okay?" His eyes went up to the wall clock. It read '2:00'

He gave an exhalation that reflected how troubled he is and slipped into the room, tightly closing the door behind him.

Christa didn't even lift her head to look at him as he approached her and sat beside her on her bed.

"What's bothering you?" Dr Richardson asked.

"Nothing dad. I just, I just feel like staying awake," Christa replied.

Dr Richardson stared at her for a while, his mind ruminating a lot of things. Then he sighed. "The recent days haven't been your best, Christa. And I think you should rest."

Christa turned her head to him, his eyes showing a complex emotion. Her steel blue eyes gazed at her father's black as night one, then she looked up to her father's black hair, unlike her Auburn.

Dr Richardson frowned wondering what she could be thinking as he stared back at her. But she looked away from his eyes.

Dr Richards
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