Music Teacher Offers Free Lessons to ‘Poor’ Boy, Then Discovers His Father’s True Identity — Story of the Day

A former pianist turned school teacher, Lily begins teaching piano to Jay, a talented boy she believes comes from a poor family. Her efforts to nurture his gift take an unexpected turn when she learns the truth about his father’s identity—a revelation that threatens to unravel everything.

Lily sat by the piano, her fingers lightly pressing random keys, filling the room with soft, disconnected notes. She sighed, her mind spinning with worry.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The orchestra had been her life, her dream since she was a child. Now, that dream was gone, and with it, her sense of security. The director had dismissed her without a second thought, choosing his daughter over her.

She had a small job teaching music to a few adults, but it barely covered her rent, let alone food and other expenses. Frustrated, she planted her hands firmly on the keys and began to play one of her favorite melodies, pouring her emotions into every note.

The tune started softly, but as thoughts of her situation flooded her mind, she played harder, her fingers striking the keys with increasing force.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When the song ended, the room fell into a thick, profound silence, as if absorbing her pain. Her hands dropped limply to her lap, and she gently closed the piano lid, resting her forehead against it. The stillness was comforting, but it didn’t solve her problem.

Over the next few weeks, she scoured job listings, applying to anything remotely related to music. Finally, she found a position as a school music teacher. She didn’t mind teaching—she respected teachers deeply.

Yet, part of her longed to create her own music, to pour her soul into her art, not just guide others in theirs.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But with no other options, she accepted the job. The school was eager to have her; they’d been searching for someone for months.

The first few days were tough. She wasn’t used to working with kids, and they seemed indifferent to her quiet, gentle way of teaching. She tried everything—she played soundtracks from popular movies, catchy pop songs—anything to spark their interest. But nothing seemed to stick.

Then, one afternoon after class, as she wandered down the hallway, a soft melody caught her attention. She followed the sound to her classroom, peeking inside. There, at the piano, was Jay, one of her students. He was playing the exact piece she’d practiced earlier in the day.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Do you play piano?” Lily asked, walking into the room.

Jay flinched, startled. “No… not really. I haven’t played much,” he mumbled, looking down at the keys.

“But you were just playing,” Lily replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. “And very well, especially for someone your age.”

Jay shrugged. “I just remembered how you played it.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lily blinked, surprised. She knew that even many trained musicians couldn’t play by memory like that. “Would you like to learn?” she asked.

Jay’s eyes brightened, and a small smile appeared on his face. “Really? You’d teach me?”

Lily nodded. But she noticed his face fall as quickly as his excitement had come. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t. I mean, thank you, but… we can’t afford it,” he said quietly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lily looked at him thoughtfully. She recalled noticing that he rarely ate lunch with the other kids. He seemed to keep to himself. “You don’t have to worry about paying,” she said gently. “I’ll teach you for free.”

Jay’s face lit up with a huge grin, and without warning, he threw his arms around her. “Thank you!” he said.

Over the next few weeks, Lily and Jay met in the empty classroom after school, their shared enthusiasm filling the room. Lily watched in amazement as Jay played each new piece she showed him, his fingers moving across the keys with surprising ease.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Every note, every chord, every melody seemed to come naturally to him. She taught him music notation, guiding him through each symbol and rhythm.

Yet each time, she marveled—did he even need these lessons? His talent was raw, instinctive, as if he was born to play.

As Jay worked through a new melody one day, Lily smiled and leaned forward. “Have you ever thought about performing?” she asked.

Jay looked up, surprised. “Performing? Like, in front of people?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes!” Lily replied. “The school festival is coming up. You could play a piece there. You’re talented enough.”

Jay hesitated, glancing at the piano keys. “I don’t know… What if I mess up?”

“You won’t,” Lily said warmly. “You’re ready, and I’ll help you. We’ll pick a song together, something you feel good about. You could even choose the piece.”

Jay bit his lip, still unsure, but nodded slowly. “All right, I guess I could try.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lily’s heart soared. She hadn’t felt this excited in a long time. Teaching him, watching his confidence grow—it filled her with a sense of purpose she hadn’t known she needed.

On the day of the performance, Lily moved through the crowded school hallways, searching everywhere for Jay. Her eyes scanned each room, her heart beating a little faster with worry each time she didn’t find him.

He was supposed to close the show, and time was running out. Other teachers stopped her, asking, “Have you seen Jay? Is he ready?”

She shook her head, feeling more anxious with each question. Suddenly, just as she turned toward the stage, Jay rushed in backstage, looking flustered and out of breath.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Quick, I need to go on now, before he sees me,” Jay whispered urgently, glancing toward the stage.

Lily placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, sensing his distress. “Hold on, Jay. Another act is on. Who are you hiding from? Why are you so scared?”

Jay’s face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears. “He won’t let me perform. And if he finds out, he’ll get you fired. I don’t want that to happen,” he said, his voice breaking.

Lily knelt down to his level, speaking calmly. “Jay, slow down. No one is going to fire me. Who doesn’t want you to perform?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jay wiped his eyes and looked down. “My dad,” he murmured.

“Your dad?” Lily echoed, surprised. “Is he… does he hurt you?”

Jay shook his head quickly. “No, he just… he doesn’t want me to play the piano.”

“Why not?” Lily asked softly, puzzled. “I’m not charging you for lessons.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’s not about the money. It’s just that—” Jay started to explain but froze as a stern voice called out.

“Jay!” a man shouted sharply. Lily turned, shocked to see Ryan standing there.

Lily recognized him instantly. Ryan—her old classmate from high school. Memories of those days rushed back. Back then, they had been friends, maybe even close friends.

Both had dreamed of a future in music, hoping for the same scholarship to attend the top music university. They’d spent hours practicing together, studying, pushing each other to improve.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Ryan’s family had never approved of his dreams. His parents thought music was pointless, unworthy of their son’s time. But Ryan had continued, driven by his love for it, keeping his ambitions a secret from them.

The day she won the grant was the day everything changed. Ryan had looked at her, hurt and angry, and said she had ruined his life. His words, “I hate you,” had haunted her ever since.

Now, standing before her, she saw that same resentment in his eyes, as if all those years hadn’t passed.

“Jay!” Ryan’s voice rang out sharply. “I told you not to play music. I forbade it!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jay looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “Dad, I can explain…”

Lily, sensing Jay’s fear, turned to him. “You’re not from a poor family?” she asked gently, though she knew the truth. Ryan had inherited his father’s company and was far from struggling.

Ryan scoffed. “Poor family? He probably made that story up so I wouldn’t find out about these lessons. He even stopped eating at school, hoping I’d never suspect it.”

Lily took a steady breath. “But why are you stopping him from playing music?” she asked, looking Ryan in the eye.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Because it’s not something a real man does,” Ryan replied firmly.

Lily felt her heart sink. “Ryan, that’s not your belief—that’s your father’s. The Ryan I knew loved music, loved playing the piano.”

Jay’s eyes widened, surprised. “Dad, you used to play?”

Ryan’s gaze hardened. “The Ryan you knew is gone. I was young and foolish. Now I understand. Music isn’t profitable, and it isn’t masculine.” He reached for Jay’s hand, pulling him away from the stage without another word.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lily watched Ryan and Jay walk away, her heart pounding. She couldn’t let this end like that. Without hesitating, she hurried through the halls and out to the parking lot. She saw them approaching Ryan’s car, Jay looking down, defeated.

“Wait! Ryan, wait!” Lily called, her voice urgent. “You can’t do this!”

Ryan stopped but didn’t turn. “This is my son,” he said loudly. “I have every right to decide what’s best for him.”

Lily took a breath, stepping forward. “You don’t have the right to take this from him. Jay is talented, Ryan. You know it, and I know it. He deserves this chance.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Ryan turned to face her, his expression hard. “I was talented once, too. I had that chance, but you took it from me. Now, I see it was all nonsense.”

“That’s not true,” Lily said, her voice steady. “You don’t believe that, Ryan. And it wasn’t me who took it away. Your parents refused to support you. They never saw your dreams. I know that hurt, but don’t let it hurt Jay.”

Ryan’s eyes flickered, but he shook his head. “It’s my decision. Jay will not play music.”

Lily’s voice rose with emotion. “Stop this, Ryan! It isn’t fair! You’re denying him something he loves because of your own anger—anger at me, anger at your parents. Jay deserves a chance to be who he is. I could find him another teacher, but he needs this. You can’t crush this dream.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jay’s voice was a whisper, but his words were clear. “Please, Dad. Just listen to me. Let me play.”

Ryan looked at Jay, something softening in his expression. After a long pause, he nodded slowly. “One time,” he said quietly. “You can play once.”

Lily let out a sigh of relief. She led Jay back into the school and guided him onto the stage. He took his place at the piano, his fingers finding the keys. As he played, the room grew silent, captivated by the beauty of his music. Lily glanced at Ryan, and for the first time, she saw tears in his eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“That was my favorite sonata,” he said to Lily, his voice low. “I never had the skill to play it.”

Lily smiled softly. “So, does that mean…” she started, but he nodded, giving his quiet approval. Lily’s heart swelled with pride as she looked at Jay, feeling that he might be her greatest accomplishment.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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I Asked My Neighbor to Clean Up After She Used My BBQ — The Next Day She Stuck Rules for My Property on My Door and Demanded I Follow Them

Camilla lets her new neighbor, Claire, use her grill… until she returns home to a backyard disaster. When she asks for basic respect, her neighbor demands that Camilla follow her rules. But when Camilla exposes the truth online, the fallout is far worse than anyone expected. Some lessons are only learned the hard way.

When my new neighbor, Claire, moved in six months ago, I thought she was normal. Like just a woman who would stay in her lane and not disturb the neighborhood too much.

A moving van and boxes | Source: Midjourney

A moving van and boxes | Source: Midjourney

I mean, she was in her 40s, lived with her 16-year-old son, Adam, and at first, she seemed chill. Friendly, even. I lent her a ladder, a garden hose, even let her use our outdoor grill station when we weren’t home.

I didn’t think much of it. It’s just being neighborly, right?

Wrong.

One weekend, my husband, David, and I took the kids to visit my parents.

A smiling woman with her son | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman with her son | Source: Midjourney

“We can have a date night while your parents take over with Grandma and Grandpa duty,” David said, packing snacks for the two-hour drive.

I had to admit, I was ready to get out of town for a while. I had been feeling restless, and I just wanted a change of scenery before I started to feel suffocated.

We were gone for two days.

And when we got back?

Containers of food on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney

Containers of food on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney

My God.

Our backyard looked like it had survived a frat house BBQ apocalypse.

There were empty beer bottles littering the patio, my potted plants were turned upside down, and the kids’ toys were thrown everywhere. Grease stains covered the deck. Our once-beautiful grill station looked like it had barely survived an explosion.

I stood there, staring at the mess, my eye twitching.

A trashed deck | Source: Midjourney

A trashed deck | Source: Midjourney

Deep breaths, Camilla, I told myself. Maybe there’s an actual explanation for this.

So, I went next door and knocked. Claire answered, still in pajamas, looking completely unbothered.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, laughing. “That was Adam’s birthday party. You know kids, right? It’s just what they do.”

I blinked. My brain felt like it was ticking away.

A woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

That’s just what kids do? Was she mad? Didn’t she see the mess? What the hell?!

“My backyard isn’t a public park, Claire. You could’ve at least cleaned up.”

“Oh, don’t be so uptight, Camilla,” she said, shrugging. “It’s just a little mess. You’ll get over it. Surely, you and your husband can use a hose? A little bit of water will clear that up.”

A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney

I could have thrown something at her.

Oh, I’ll get over it? Um, sure.

I went back to my home, trying to figure out what to do. I could be reasonable, or I could be erratic and make Claire pay.

“What’s that look on your face?” David asked as I walked into the kitchen. “Found the culprit?”

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney

“It was Adam’s birthday party. Apparently, that’s how he spent it.”

“Isn’t he, like, sixteen?” David asked, making me a cup of tea.

“Something like that,” I said, getting the jar of biscuits. “Oh my goodness. Underage drinking! There are so many beer bottles out there.”

David looked at me and laughed.

A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

A frustrated woman | Source: Midjourney

“Every kid does it at least once, Cami,” he said. “But, I mean… you could use that as leverage, right? To scare the kid?”

I nodded.

“But I want Claire to feel something, too. She told me that we could just hose down the mess and that I’d get over it.”

We had our tea in silence while I tried to figure out what to do.

A jar of biscuits and a cup of tea | Source: Midjourney

A jar of biscuits and a cup of tea | Source: Midjourney

Okay, Cami, I thought. Let’s try being reasonable first.

I grabbed a notepad and wrote down three simple rules:

  1. If you use something, clean it and put it back.
  2. Respect my property.
  3. Clean up after your child.

The next morning, I went over to Claire and handed it to her. I expected a mature response. But what I got in return was anything but.

A woman holding a sheet of paper | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a sheet of paper | Source: Midjourney

The next day, I woke up to a list of her rules taped to my front door.

It was not a joke. It was Claire’s rules. For my property. My property.

I nearly choked on my coffee as I read the note.

A woman holding a piece of paper | Source: AmoMama

A woman holding a piece of paper | Source: AmoMama

Dear Neighbors!

To keep things fair and neighborly, I’ve put together some simple rules:

Please follow these to avoid any issues.

  1. No grilling past 7 PM. The smell keeps me awake.
  2. No spicy seasonings when you’re cooking. My son doesn’t like the smell.
  3. If I’m using the grill, please stay out of the yard. It is distracting, and I don’t like when strangers watch me cook.
  4. Notify me before grilling so I know who’s using it. Schedules are key.
  5. Your garden hose is for community use. I may need it for washing my car and watering my garden.
  6. Patio furniture is for everyone!
  7. When you mow your side of the lawn, do mine too. It looks so much better that way.
  8. Be patient if my son leaves trash in your yard. Kids will be kids, and it’s not a big deal!
  9. Sometimes I need extra parking space. I might use your driveway when needed.
  10. Also, if you ever have concerns about these rules, feel free to discuss them with me. But please remember, I know what’s best for our community!

I’m looking forward to a harmonious neighborhood!

A woman reading from a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading from a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

I read it twice to make sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me.

This woman really thought she had just annexed my backyard into her personal kingdom. Then my eldest kid, Olivia, came running up, phone in hand.

“Mom, you need to see this,” she said. She showed me a video.

A girl holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

A girl holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

Claire’s son, Adam, had been posting TikTok videos.

From our backyard!

In the clips, he and his friends laughed about using our space like it was their personal hangout. And then they trashed the place on camera.

Oh. Oh.

I grabbed my phone immediately.

A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

I walked to my backyard and filmed everything. The litter, the grease-stained grill, the beer bottles still rolling on the patio. I zoomed in on the ridiculous list of rules Claire had taped to my door.

And then I posted it on my socials.

As for the caption?

Glad my neighbor and her kid enjoy my backyard more than I do! Check out the rules she gave me!

Within three days, the video had 5 million views, with people sharing it like wildfire.

A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney

A phone opened to social media | Source: Midjourney

People flooded the comments:

Excuse me? Her rules?! For YOUR house?!

No way, put up a fence ASAP. These people are insane.

What game is she playing at?

Tell me you have an entitled neighbor without telling me you have an entitled neighbor.

Comments on a social media post | Source: Midjourney

Comments on a social media post | Source: Midjourney

Then someone offered to help.

A man in the comments said that he specialized in building chain-link fences. By the end of the week, my backyard was sealed tighter than Fort Knox.

There were no more:

Oops, my son and his friends needed a place to hang out!

I just needed to wash my car real quick, Camilla.

A fence dividing two houses | Source: Midjourney

A fence dividing two houses | Source: Midjourney

If Claire wanted access to my space… too bad, because she wasn’t getting it. And she noticed the fence immediately.

She stormed over, holding a wooden spoon, and pounded on my door.

“You’re breaking my rules!” she screeched. “Goddammit!”

I smiled sweetly.

A woman standing at her front door | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing at her front door | Source: Midjourney

“What’s with the spoon?” I asked. “What have you been baking?”

She looked at me like I was mad.

“I said that you’re breaking my rules, Camilla!”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, my voice dripping with fake innocence. “I just thought since we had different house rules, it was best we keep things separate.”

An upset woman holding a wooden spoon | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman holding a wooden spoon | Source: Midjourney

She fumed.

I sipped my coffee and smiled.

My water bill improved overnight. Suddenly, Claire didn’t have access to my hose anymore. My driveway stayed empty because there was no more free parking for her.

And then…

Two days later, there was a knock on the door around dinnertime.

A woman reading a book | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a book | Source: Midjourney

Not Claire.

Adam.

The 16-year-old looked absolutely miserable.

“Ma’am, please,” he muttered. “Please… you’re ruining my life.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

A teenage boy standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

“Those videos that you made,” he groaned. “Now I have trouble at school because of you! At first, I thought it was cool and that nobody would notice anything. But then people realized that it was me. And now they won’t let me live it down.”

Oh, so he outed himself and he was mad about it?

I tilted my head.

Students sitting in a classroom | Source: Midjourney

Students sitting in a classroom | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, that sounds rough, buddy,” I said. “But you know, actions have consequences. Do you understand that you should have just cleaned up after yourself? There was no need to trash the place. I was fine with you using it. I was fine with you having your friends around. But what you did…”

“Yes, I do understand,” he said quietly.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll delete the videos. But please remember, do not use someone else’s property as your own. Don’t take advantage of a good thing.”

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

He nodded and walked away.

The night air was cooler than usual, and the quiet hum of the neighborhood felt almost… peaceful.

I stepped outside, tightening my robe around myself as I walked toward the trash bins. The motion sensor flicked on, casting a harsh yellow glow over my yard.

And that’s when I saw her.

A woman holding a bag of trash | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bag of trash | Source: Midjourney

Claire.

She was leaning against the side of her house, a cigarette dangling between her fingers.

Her shoulders were curled inward, and her hair was messy and unbrushed. She looked nothing like the smug, entitled woman who had taped her ridiculous rules to my door.

For a second, I considered ignoring her.

A woman smoking outside | Source: Midjourney

A woman smoking outside | Source: Midjourney

But then she exhaled slowly, tilting her head toward me.

“You win,” she muttered, her voice hoarse.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

She took another drag from her cigarette and then laughed quietly to herself.

A woman holding a cigarette | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a cigarette | Source: Midjourney

“You heard me, Camilla,” she said, waving the cigarette in the air. “You won. Congratulations. You should see what people are saying about me…”

I stared at her, trying to decipher her tone. It wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t even angry. It was just… tired.

Defeated.

I dropped the trash into the bin, dusting off my hands.

“Not really sure what you mean, Claire,” I said. “I didn’t realize this was a competition.”

Two outside bins | Source: Midjourney

Two outside bins | Source: Midjourney

She scoffed.

“Oh, come on, Camilla,” she muttered. “We both know what this is. You didn’t like how I did things, so you went nuclear. You put my kid on blast, for goodness’ sake. You ruined his life.”

I crossed my arms.

“Adam ruined his own life,” I said flatly. “I didn’t force him to throw a party in my yard. I didn’t force him to post videos bragging about it. And I sure as hell didn’t force you to act like my backyard was yours.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

Her nostrils flared, but she didn’t argue.

For once.

She exhaled again, staring out at the darkened street.

“Do you know how hard it is to raise a teenage boy alone?”

I blinked slowly. That was… unexpected.

A woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

I stayed silent.

She let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head.

“Adam doesn’t have a dad,” she said. “Never did. It’s just been us. And I tried to give him a good life, I did. But…” she shrugged. “Kids are kids, right? He made a stupid mistake.”

I narrowed my eyes.

A teenage boy sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Claire, this wasn’t just a stupid mistake.”

She didn’t answer. She just took another slow drag.

“You know,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “I could have taken things a lot further.”

That got her attention. Her head snapped toward me.

“What?”

A woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

“Seriously, Claire. You gave me rules for my own house. You let your kid treat my property like his playground. And when I asked for basic respect, you laughed in my face.”

She just stared at me.

“I could have taken legal action. I could have pressed charges. I could have gone to the police. I had enough proof. But I didn’t. I’m not a bad person, Claire. I just don’t like being walked all over.”

The exterior of a police station | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a police station | Source: Midjourney

For the first time since I met her, she looked small. She turned away, flicking the ash from her cigarette.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I get that now.”

I watched her for a second, letting the moment sit between us.

Then I nodded.

“Good.”

And with that, I turned and walked back inside, leaving Claire in the dark.

A woman walking back to her home | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking back to her home | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

When Brooke returns home from a weeklong work trip, she’s eager to unwind with her favorite snack. But her peanut butter jar is mysteriously half-empty. Her husband, Aaron, is allergic, so who ate it? Determined to uncover the truth, Brooke turns to their security cameras and discovers a shocking secret: Aaron had been hiding a guest. What starts as suspicion unravels into an emotional journey neither of them expected.

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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