Can you pretend to be my wife for one week? He CEO millionaire single dad begged the stranger to save his daughter’s birthday. It was a rainy afternoon in downtown New York. Light droplets slid down the glass windows of a quaint little bakery nestled on a corner street. Inside, the smell of warm cinnamon rolls and fresh vanilla filled the air.
Sienna Blake, a 25-year-old freelance designer, slipped in through the door just before the rain picked up. She had no intention of buying anything. She just needed a place to wait out the weather and finish some quick client edits on her tablet. Her blonde hair, softly curled and damp from the drizzle, fell past her shoulders as she settled at a corner table by the window.
Then she noticed the little girl dressed in a pink dress with ruffled sleeves, her golden curls tied up in two small pigtails. The child stood near the counter alone with wide, watery eyes. Her lips trembled as she looked around, clearly searching for someone. “Si stood.” “Hey there,” she said gently, crouching beside the girl. “Are you lost?” The girl sniffled and gave a shaky nod.
My daddy was just here, he said to wait, but he’s not coming back. Just like mommy. That sentence hit Sienna like a punch to the chest. She reached out carefully. What’s your name, sweetheart? Anna, the girl whispered. Well, Anna, Sienna smiled softly. Do you want to sit with me until your daddy gets back? We can look out the window and make up stories about people walking by. Anna hesitated, then nodded.
Within minutes, the tears had dried, and the two were giggling about a man in a bright yellow raincoat who looked like a banana. Sienna was just midstory when the bakery door swung open, and a tall man in a dark coat rushed in, clearly out of breath. His sharp jawline, dark eyes, and expensive suit made him stand out immediately. “Anna,” he called.

Anna stood up quickly. Daddy. Liam Cross exhaled in relief, walking toward them. I turned around for two seconds and she wandered off, he said, looking more annoyed at himself than anything. Thank you, he added, nodding at Sienna. She’s okay, Sienna replied, standing. She was just scared.
Liam gave a stiff nod, scooped Anna into his arms, and exited as quickly as he came. No further words, no real eye contact. Sienna sat back down, slightly stunned. 3 days later, there was a knock at her apartment door. She opened it to find the same man, Liam, standing in the hallway of her building, still in a suit, holding an umbrella.
He looked slightly out of place, like he didn’t belong in this old walk up with creaky stairs and warm yellow lighting. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. Anna wouldn’t stop asking for you, and I couldn’t find any contact. I asked around at the bakery and one of the staff mentioned your business card on the counter. May I come in? Sienna blinked. Uh, sure. He stepped inside.
She motioned toward the small dining table. I’ll make it quick, Liam said, folding his hands. It’s Anna’s birthday next week. She hasn’t celebrated since her mother died. I’ve tried everything. Party planners, child therapists, even actors. Sienna’s brows drew together. Actors, she refuses to celebrate unless her mother is there.
She insists the only person she trusts is you. He paused. She thinks you’re her mom. Sienna pald. What? She told me. He continued. That you’re the one who makes her feel safe. So he cleared his throat. I need you to pretend to be my wife just for a week for Anna. She stared at him, stunned.
“You want me to be your fake wife for a 5-year-old?” Liam didn’t flinch. “Yes,” Sienna stood, pacing. “This is insane. You don’t know me. I don’t know you, and this little girl only asks for you.” That stopped her. Sienna shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” But just as she opened the door to show him out, Anna’s voice echoed in her mind, just like mommy.
And then Liam said quietly, “She hasn’t slept through the night in months. That day at the bakery, she slept the whole way home.” Sienna hesitated. Later that night, she met them again. “All right,” she said, looking Liam dead in the eyes. “One week, that’s it. And no one, no neighbors, no assistants, no photographers gets to think it’s real. After that, we go back to strangers.

Understood? Liam nodded. Understood. But neither of them realized that one week could change everything. The rot iron gates of the cross estate opened slowly as Sienna’s cab pulled into the circular driveway. The mansion before her looked more like a luxury hotel than a home. Sleek, cold, and gleaming under the afternoon sun.
For all its beauty, it held no warmth. She stepped out with her weekend bag, nerves fluttering. Before she could knock, the door flew open. Mommy. Anna ran out in her pink dress, pigtails bouncing, and threw herself into Sienna’s arms. Sienna crouched, hugging her tightly. Hi, sweetheart,” she said softly, still adjusting to being called that name. “Liam followed behind, his expression unreadable.
She’s been counting down the hours,” he said. “I can tell,” Sienna replied, brushing Anna’s curls back. “Inside, the house was pristine. Marble floors, high ceilings, glass chandeliers, beautiful, but silent, lifeless.” This way, Liam said, leading her past a curious housekeeper and butler. I told the staff, you’ve returned from Europe.
They’ve been briefed. Briefed? She echoed with a rise smile like I’m on a mission. He allowed a faint smirk. In a way, as they reached the guest wing, Liam’s assistant, Rebecca, sharpeyed and brisk, appeared. “Mrs. Cross,” she greeted, offering a firm handshake. “Welcome back.” Sienna took it, masking her discomfort at the title. I’ve prepared the rooms, Rebecca continued.
Would you prefer the master suite with Mr. Cross or a separate one? The silence stretched. Sienna opened her mouth. Liam cleared his throat. Separate is fine. Very good, Rebecca replied smoothly, though Sienna caught a flicker of suspicion. Once alone, she glanced at Liam. We should work on our backstory. He sighed. Agreed.
That evening, they sat in the sleek kitchen going over their fabricated love story, how they met, when they got engaged, why she’d gone abroad. It felt surreal, rehearsing a romance that had never existed. “Favorite memory together?” Liam asked, reading from a list on his phone. Sienna leaned her chin on her hand. “Maybe the time you hired me to lie to everyone you know.” He actually laughed. Fair.
They were still practicing when Anna bounded in with a mixing bowl. Can we make cookies like before? Liam raised a brow. We did that. Sienna smiled. Apparently, we’re great bakers. Soon, the kitchen transformed. Flower dusted the counters, chocolate chips scattered, and laughter echoed. Sienna taught Anna to crack eggs while Liam fumbled but tried.

Later, Sienna read Anna her favorite book in bed. Liam watched from the doorway, arms folded, expression soft. After Anna fell asleep, he walked Sienna to the hallway. “She’s calmer with you than I’ve seen in a long time,” he said quietly. “Even more than with me. She loves you, Liam,” Sienna said gently.
“But I think she’s not sure how to connect.” He didn’t respond, but his eyes gave away more than his words ever had. The next few days blurred the lines further. At breakfast, Anna laughed so hard she spilled her juice. Liam wordlessly cleaned it up. At night, they watched movies until Anna fell asleep, curled between them. What began as fiction started to feel strangely real.
Sienna noticed Anna would glance at Liam before hugging him. Unsure if it was allowed, she gently bridged the gap, suggesting Liam read bedtime stories or letting Anna pull him into playtime. One evening, after Sienna tucked Anna in, Liam spoke from the door. “Thank you.” She turned. “For what?” “For going beyond what I asked.” She smiled. I didn’t know how to fake being a mom.
So, I stopped trying. Their eyes locked and something shifted between them. not attraction, not admiration, respect, understanding. The boundary between acting and truth was beginning to fade. By the end of the third day, the cross mansion didn’t feel as cold anymore.
Not because of the weather, but because of the subtle shifts that had taken root within its walls. Sienna had expected this arrangement to be awkward, maybe even exhausting. But what she hadn’t expected was Liam Cross. He was still reserved, still quiet in that deliberate way that made him hard to read. But when he was with Anna, really with her, something changed. His movements softened. His eyes lingered.
He knelt to tie her shoes without a second thought, cut her toast into stars, and made sure her nightlight was working every evening. One night, Sienna walked into the living room to find Liam carefully braiding Anna’s damp hair after her bath, his brows furrowed in concentration. “She says this is how you do it,” he murmured without looking up.
“She’s got high standards,” Sienna replied with a smile. “She gets that from her mother.” It was the first time he’d mentioned his late wife out loud. Sienna paused, sensing the weight behind the words. “She must have been amazing. She was, he said simply, and that was all. Later that evening, after Anna had gone to bed, Sienna wandered the halls looking for a glass of water.
She followed the faint sound of music, soft, wistful notes drifting from the parlor. She stopped at the doorway. Liam was at the grand piano, his back to her, fingers moving effortlessly across the keys. The melody was haunting, beautiful, something classical, though touched with something personal. Regret, longing, memory. He played with his eyes closed, completely unaware of her presence.
Sienna stepped into the room quietly and sank into an armchair in the corner, her breath catching in her throat. When the final note faded, Liam sat still for a long moment. Then he spoke without turning. “You play?” he asked. Not like that, she replied softly. I didn’t know you could. It was my life once, he said. Before I became this, she waited.
My wife used to say I was a different person when I played. Softer. Maybe that’s why I stopped. You haven’t lost that softness, Sienna said before she could stop herself. Liam turned, finally meeting her gaze. You see it? He asked almost like he didn’t believe it. I do. A silence stretched between them, not heavy, but charged.
Then he stood, walked over, and leaned on the back of the chair opposite her. “If this were real,” he said suddenly. “If all of this weren’t just an arrangement, how would you feel about it?” Sienna blinked. “What? If we weren’t pretending? If you were really my wife, Anna’s mother?” She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her heart thutdded against her ribs. The question wasn’t part of the script.
Not part of the deal. I She started then looked away. I’d say we’re getting off topic. Liam chuckled under his breath, but there was sadness in it. I’m sorry, he said. I just Sometimes it feels too easy, too. Sienna stood up gently. That’s dangerous, Liam. He nodded. I know. She walked past him toward the hallway, needing space, needing clarity.
But just before she turned the corner, she glanced back. He hadn’t moved. That night, Sienna lay awake in the guest suite, staring at the ceiling. Anna’s soft snores echoed faintly through the baby monitor beside her. She thought about the music, the question, the way Liam had looked at her, not like a man acting, but a man wondering if something he lost long ago could ever return.
She had promised herself this would stay fake. But her heart was no longer following the rules. By the end of the week, Sienna was no longer just the woman pretending to be Liam Cross’s wife. Not in the eyes of neighbors, not in the eyes of the school community, and especially not in the eyes of one 5-year-old girl who now told everyone, “My mommy came back from Europe.
” And oddly, not even in Sienna’s own reflection. Each day, the act blurred further into something, softer, less constructed, more real. She woke up earlier just to help Anna with breakfast. She stayed later after bedtime, sipping tea in the kitchen while Liam worked nearby in silence that no longer felt awkward.
One evening, they found themselves cooking together without a word of planning. Liam chopping vegetables while Sienna stirred the sauce, their movements sinking like they’d done it a hundred times. Anna danced between them, twirling in her pink dress, declaring it a family dinner night. It should have felt like a performance, but it didn’t. At night, they talked, really talked about their childhoods, their fears, the things they used to love before the world got loud and hard. Liam told her about the music he used to write.
Sienna told him how her mother had left when she was 12, and how design gave her a sense of control when nothing else made sense. “You make everything feel manageable,” he had said quietly one night. and you surprise me,” she’d replied. Neither of them said what that really meant.
Then came the charity fundraiser, a school event held at the community garden to raise money for art supplies. Parents dressed up, tables were lit with fairy lights. Children sold handmade cookies and bookmarks. Liam picked Sienna up from the bedroom hallway, pausing when he saw her in a simple burgundy dress that hugged her waist.
Her blonde hair was pinned softly behind her ears, a few loose curls brushing her shoulders. You look stunning, he said before catching himself. I mean convincing as my wife. She raised a brow, amused. Nice save. He offered her his arm. Shall we, Mrs. Cross? At the fundraiser, eyes turned. People smiled. Anna introduced Sienna to every classmate as my real mommy now. and no one questioned it.
At one point, a well-dressed couple approached Liam, commenting on his outfit. “Sharp suit,” the man said. “My wife picked it,” Liam replied with ease, glancing towards Sienna. “She always has better taste.” Sienna looked over at him just in time to see the corner of his mouth lift in a private smile.
Later, as the event carried on, she stood by a garden bed, watching Anna play with chalk on the pavement. Liam came to stand beside her, hands in his pockets, watching the same scene. She felt him looking at her even before he spoke. “When you laugh like that,” he said quietly. “I forget what’s real and what isn’t.” Sienna’s breath caught. She didn’t turn to face him. Couldn’t. “Don’t say that,” she whispered.
“Why not?” “Because this is supposed to be pretend.” “But it doesn’t feel that way anymore,” he said. Sienna looked down at the ring on her left hand, a prop Liam’s assistant had picked out, meant only for the illusion. But it sat there like it belonged. “I told you from the start,” she said. “Only one week.” “I know.” Silence.
But in that still moment, as the sun dipped behind the trees, and laughter echoed in the distance, neither moved away. They didn’t hold hands, didn’t kiss, didn’t confess, but something had shifted. an invisible line crossed and left behind. What had started as a performance was becoming a story written without a script, and neither of them knew how it would end.
The cracks began with a flash, an accidental photo snapped by a passing paparazzo outside the community fundraiser. The image wasn’t remarkable at first. Liam and Sienna laughing, walking side by side, Anna swinging between them, pink dress flying. But the next day, things shifted. A gossip blog released an article.
Is Liam Cross’s new wife just a wellplanned illusion. It was filled with vague suspicions and anonymous sources. But one detail stood out. An image of a document, blurry, but unmistakably showing Sienna’s real last name, Blake. It had been captured unknowingly. When Sienna opened her bag during the event, a sliver of her ID exposed to the camera’s lens.
The internet did the rest. By afternoon, forums were flooded with speculation. Liam Cross had hired a woman to play his wife. Some said it was a PR move. Others believed it was a cover for a secret scandal. Then it got personal. A woman named Monica Vale, now a senior PR executive at a rival tech firm, posted a thinly veiled anonymous tip about Sienna.
She had known Sienna briefly from college, just enough to piece together truths and twist them into headlines. It’s not love, it’s leverage. She was struggling financially before this. Wouldn’t be the first time someone pretty tried to climb her way up. The story spread like wildfire.
When Sienna saw her name trending, her breath left her lungs. She stood in Liam’s home office, holding her phone in disbelief. Across the room, Liam read the same news from his laptop, his jaw tight, eyes stormy. Sienna was the first to speak. This is bad. It’s going to affect Anna, the company, everything. Liam looked at her. I can shut this down.
I have lawyers, media contacts. It’ll pass. But it won’t, she said quietly. Because some of it looks true. It’s not. It feels true, she replied, voice cracking. Liam, I agreed to pretend to be your wife. That’s exactly what I am. And now the world knows. They didn’t notice Anna standing outside the room until it was too late. Sienna’s voice had risen.
We should have stopped before it got this far. Then came the tiny voice. Why would you stop? They both froze. Anna stood in the doorway, her small hands balled into fists, her cheeks flushed. I heard you, she said, trembling. You said you’re not really my mommy. You’re leaving, aren’t you? Sienna’s knees gave way as she rushed to Anna. “Sweetheart, no.
No, listen.” Anna stepped back. “I do not want you to go. You are my mommy.” The tears came too fast. Sienna pulled Anna into her arms and held her tight, burying her face into the child’s curls. “I did not mean to hurt you,” she whispered, barely able to breathe through her sobs. “I love you so much.” Liam stood still, shaken in a way he hadn’t been since the day his wife died.
He had tried to keep Anna safe. He had tried to stay guarded. But watching his daughter break like that, he realized the truth had come too late. The lie they had built wasn’t just theirs anymore. It belonged to a little girl who had opened her heart fully, believing the family around her was real.
Later that night, Sienna packed a bag. She did not say much to Liam. She could not trust herself to look at Anna again without crying. “I need to go,” she said simply. “For her sake, for yours.” But when the door closed behind her, silence wrapped the house like a storm waiting to break. The fairy tale was over, and the cost of pretending had never felt so painfully real.
The house was quiet again, too quiet. Since Sienna left, Liam had thrown himself into work with machine-like efficiency, meetings, emails, press calls. The media storm around the fake wife scandal had begun to fade thanks to his legal team and a carefully released statement, but the silence inside the house never faded.
Anna no longer ran through the halls with pink ribbons bouncing in her hair. Her drawings no longer included rainbows or smiling stick figures holding hands. She asked fewer questions. She smiled less. And at night, she started waking up again. At first, Liam brushed it off. Nightmares were normal. Kids were resilient. He tried reading to her, sitting by her bed, leaving lights on.
Nothing worked. Then came the fever. It started subtly. Warm forehead, flushed cheeks. But by midnight, Anna was burning up and shivering under her blankets. She tossed restlessly, mumbling words he could barely understand. Mommy, mommy, Sienna. Liam’s heart clenched.
He pressed a cold cloth to her forehead, held her tiny hand, whispered that he was here, but she kept calling the same name over and over. “Please,” she murmured, eyes glassy. “Don’t go, Mommy.” Something inside Liam broke wide open. He scooped her up into his arms, wrapped her in a blanket, and rushed to the car. The city was drenched in rain, headlights reflecting on the slick streets as he drove with white knuckles gripping the wheel. He did not take her to the hospital.
He took her to Sienna. It was past 1 a.m. m. When he reached her apartment building, rain pounding down like the sky itself was breaking. Liam got out of the car. Anna cradled against his chest, blanket soaked in seconds. She whimpered, burying her face into his shoulder. He rang the buzzer. No answer. He rang again. A light flicked on upstairs.
A shadow moved behind the curtain, then footsteps. The door creaked open. Sienna stood there, hair messy, wrapped in an oversized sweatshirt. Her eyes widened when she saw them. Liam drenched, Anna in his arms, burning with fever. “Liam, I did not know where else to go,” he said horarssely. Sienna rushed forward.
“Is she?” “She’s burning up,” he said, voice tight with emotion. and she keeps calling your name.” Sienna reached out. “Let me take her.” He hesitated for a second, then passed Anna into her arms. The little girl instantly curled into Sienna’s chest, letting out a soft, broken sigh like her body recognized home. Sienna led them inside, moving quickly but gently.
She laid Anna on the couch, wrapped her in warm blankets, fetched medicine, and a thermometer, her movements calm, and practiced. Liam stood motionless in the doorway, soaked, silent. After checking Anna, Sienna finally turned to him. She’ll be okay, she said quietly. She just needs rest. And maybe some peace, Liam’s voice cracked. I am trying.
I know, Sienna whispered. There was a long pause, only the sound of rain against the windows and Anna’s soft breathing between them. Then Liam stepped forward. She has not slept through the night since Rachel died. He said, “6 months, Sienna. 6 months of nightmares. And then you came and suddenly she slept. She laughed.
She looked at me like I could be someone better.” His hands were shaking. “She loves you,” he said. “And I I do not know what to do without you here.” Sienna looked down, fighting tears. Liam. He knelt. Right there on the hardwood floor of her apartment, soaked from the storm outside, Liam Cross, stoic CEO, powerful and untouchable, went down on one knee.
Not to propose, but to beg, he reached up gently taking her hand, his voice barely audible through the weight in his throat. Please, he said, do not leave us again. I know we started this as a lie, but Anna, she sees the truth, and so do I. Sienna’s eyes filled, her free hand brushing against Anna’s damp curls. Liam held on tighter. “She needs you,” he whispered. “And so do I.
” And in that moment, more than contracts or appearances, more than press or guilt or fear, what mattered was what had always mattered: family. The backyard was strung with soft lights. Pastel-coled streamers fluttered from the trees, and a table of cupcakes, candies, and paper crowns sat in the center of it all.
Balloons shaped like stars bobbed in the warm breeze, and the sound of children’s laughter floated through the garden. It was Anna’s birthday, and Sienna was back. She stood near the patio doors wearing the pink flowy dress Anna had picked out weeks ago before everything fell apart. Her golden hair, loosely curled and tucked behind one ear, glowed under the fading sun.
As she looked out into the yard at the small crowd of neighbors, co-workers, classmates, and their parents, she felt a strange, quiet calm. Then a familiar voice called out, “Si.” Anna ran toward her in her birthday dress, bright pink with little embroidered stars, and launched herself into her arms. Sienna caught her midair, twirling once as Anna giggled.
The little girl hugged her tight, resting her head on Sienna’s shoulder like she had never left. “I missed you,” Anna whispered. “I missed you more,” Sienna replied softly. “From a distance,” Liam watched. His eyes never left the two of them. Dressed in a white shirt with sleeves rolled, no tie, and a gentle smile that rarely appeared before this chapter of his life, he looked less like a CEO tonight, and more like a man who had finally come home.
As the sun dipped lower, the party settled into soft music and friendly chatter. Liam gathered everyone near the garden center, where a low platform had been set for cake cutting. Anna stood between her father and Sienna, grinning, cheeks flushed with excitement. “Before we blow out candles,” Liam said, stepping forward with a mic. “I just want to say thank you. Thank you all for being here to celebrate Anna.
She is the bravest, kindest, most magical 5-year-old I’ve ever known.” Anna beamed. Liam glanced toward Sienna, then back at the guests. “There’s something else,” he said, his voice lowering a little. steady but sincere. Some of you may know that this year has been different for us. We’ve had change, loss, and the unexpected. He paused. Everyone was listening now.
Earlier this year, I asked someone for a favor. I asked her to pretend to be part of something that wasn’t real. But what none of us expected was how real it would become. Sienna looked up, surprised. Her hands froze on the edges of the cake platter. Liam stepped off the platform and walked toward her. I told her it would only be one week. Just one week of pretending.
But one week wasn’t enough. Not for me. Not for Anna. The guests grew quiet. He stopped in front of her, gaze steady and open. Because one week wasn’t enough for Anna to stop calling you mommy. And it wasn’t enough for me to stop calling you the love of my life. Sienna’s breath caught in her chest.
Then Anna’s voice broke through the hush, high and happy. She’s really my mommy now. Laughter rippled through the crowd. Some guests dabbing tears, others clapping gently. Sienna looked down at Anna, who was now bouncing with joy. Then back at Liam. Her eyes shimmerred. I was never pretending, she whispered.
Liam reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. Neither was I. The candles were lit. Anna closed her eyes and made her wish, though in her heart she already had it all. As the flame flickered out and cheers erupted, Sienna leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Liam’s cheek. And this time, no one was acting. The garden had never looked more beautiful.
Soft white petals floated down from an arch woven with liies and baby’s breath. Rows of wooden chairs lined the path, their ends tied with silk ribbons in pale rows. Twinkling lights wrapped around the trees, casting a golden hue over the small gathering of close friends, family, and neighbors. It was intimate. It was peaceful.
It was exactly what Sienna Blake had once dreamed of and never believed she would have. One year had passed since Anna’s fth birthday. And now, in the same backyard where it all began, she stood beside Liam Cross, no longer pretending. Anna, now six, wore a tiny blush colored dress that swayed with every bounce of her step. She had insisted on being the flower girl and the maid of honor.
With a basket of petals in one hand and a proud smile on her face, she skipped down the aisle, tossing flowers in all directions, giggling as guests laughed gently, Sienna waited under the arch. Her blonde hair swept into soft waves that shimmerred in the light.
Her dress was simple, elegant, with a satin ribbon at the waist, picked by Anna, of course. Then came the sound of piano, not a recording, not a hired musician. It was Liam. He sat at a white baby grand placed under a tree playing the melody he had written for her. It was the same melody she had first heard that quiet night when he had played Anna to sleep.
Only now it was fuller, richer, with new notes, notes of hope, of healing, of home. When he reached the final cord, he stood, buttoned his jacket, and walked down the aisle to meet the woman who had turned his house into something more than walls and glass. Their vows were not long. Sienna went first. When we met, we made a deal to pretend. But somewhere between bedtime stories and birthday candles, we stopped acting.
We became something real. And standing here now, I know that every twist of fate brought me to the only place I was ever meant to be, right beside you. Liam’s voice was quiet, steady. You were never part of the plan. And yet somehow you became the best thing I never saw coming. You didn’t just love my daughter, you taught me how to love again.
You turned a house full of silence into laughter. From day one, you were real to us. And I swear to spend every day proving I was worth that gift. They turned to Anna, who stood between them, eyes shining. Liam knelt, taking her hand in his. Daddy’s never going to let anyone leave you again. Not even Mommy Sienna.
Anna threw her arms around both of them. “I have a real mommy now,” she cried. The guests clapped, some with tears in their eyes. As the officient declared them husband and wife, the three of them walked hand in hand down the aisle.
The sun dipped behind the trees, casting everything in a golden glow, and Anna, pink dress fluttering, curls bouncing, twirled, jumped, skipped between them, her laughter echoing like music. No more pretending, just love. Thank you for joining us on this heartfelt journey of love, healing, and second chances. From a rainy bakery to a wedding under golden skies, Sienna, Liam, and Anna showed us the power of unexpected connection.
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