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That night, Ethan went upstairs and slammed his bedroom door. I sat alone in the living room for a long time, thinking about what had just happened.
I wondered whether I had been too strict. Had I failed to give him enough support? Or had I spoiled him so much that he now believed every wish of his should automatically be granted?
The next morning, I decided to talk to Ethan again.
I knocked on his bedroom door and found him lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone.
