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seconds.
Then I said, “I learned from you. Survival comes first.”
I hung up.
Six months later, I woke in a sunlit recovery room with clean sheets, steady machines, and Mara asleep in a chair beside the window. The surgery had worked. The scans were better than expected. My body was scarred, tired, and alive.
I moved into a small apartment above a bakery,continue reading …
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