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dead on top of me, his bloo
oed in my head: "If there's a next life, let's n
eak through his icy heart. It never did. He hated me because his childhood sweetheart, Emily, had died,
ngagement, blaming me. I regretted it most of all, feeling like a di
vived, and he was gone. So, I prepared
end. But the impact never came. Instead, I jolted awake in my own bed, sunlight streaming in. My phone buzzed, and the date on the screen made m

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