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When I was 8 or 9, my grandma’s gold watch went missing. My uncle, aunt, and mom interrogated me for hours, making me cry and pressuring me to confess. I kept saying I didn’t know where it was, but they didn’t believe me.
Eventually, I lied, saying I gave it to my classmate just to end the interrogation. My uncle drove to my friend’s house, but they didn’t know anything. The next day, I was filled with anger and shame. A week later, my grandma found the watch, but no one apologized. That’s when I stopped trusting my family.