BRENT’S POVAfter Priscilla returned from shopping with the kids last night, her mood had for some reason become sour. She barely talked to me or the kids, even. All she did was put the minor things they bought away and when I tried to ask what was wrong, she brushed me off with her signature response. “I'm fine, there's no problem.” “You know you have to talk to me when you get issues like this, I can't help you if you keep staying silent.” I'd said after sneaking up to her in the kitchen but she was still giving me a cold shoulder. I'd thought it was just me who did something to upset her but she was going all out on the kids too. She snapped at them at every slight inconvenience, leaving them teary or surprised. “Priscilla, you can't keep yelling at the kids because you're upset, just tell me what's going on, I'm sure we can find a way around it.” I told her after we'd managed to put the kids to bed. “It's fine, I'm just tired, I need to rest.” She withdrew her hands from min
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