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... eternal. My reflection stared back at me from the polished doors—pale, thin, exhausted. I’d barely eaten in days.

The doors opened to reveal a sharp-faced woman in a designer suit.

Her smile was professional. "Mrs. Blackwood." She gestured down a hallway. "This way, please."

We walked in silence past glass-walled offices where employees pretended not to stare. I felt their eyes tracking me. The rejected bride. The humiliated wife.

The assistant stopped at massive ...

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