/0/96930/coverbig.jpg?v=cde5cc8994e5817173d4d9dc4399111a)
t, was a saint for publicly forgiv
nd I learned his forgiveness w
instead to listen to his new, twenty-two-year-ol
a wedding dress, drew a clown smile on my father's
she sneered. "A broken woman
a slow-burning revenge for a crime his own mother had orchestra
as wrong. He left me one thing: revenge. And I w
pte
x P
cly forgiving me for letting his mother die. Today, he let my father
olor. He was everything I wasn't-born into old New York money, charismatic, the brilliant CEO of a
t devoted; he
hat transferred every single one of his personal assets to my
whispered, his lips against my hair. "So
trical performance of love that the wor
a small bio-tracker chip, no bigger than a grain of rice, implanted
faint scar. "And this way," he added, his eyes dark with a passion that
for a long time, I was happy to live inside it. I loved him j
is moth
oment Dwight brought me home. She saw me as a contamination to her pristine bloodline.
hone in my hand, her life hanging
playing on her lips even then. "He'll never truly love you,
lp. I watched the lif
fell to his knees, his cries echoing through the grand, empty mansi
in the eye and said,
is face a mask of shattered disbelief. The world expected
orga
hand and announced that he would not be pressing charges. He signed a legal do
his body trembling. "Do you hate m
lex. I could never hate you. I l
twisted fairy tale that people whispered about. The man who
years, we played the part of
rything
Charity
s and a vocabulary full of words like "cosmic energy" and "the Un
ell for
, once a symbol of his eternal connection to me, was now just a faint white line. He told me i
rs ago, a quiet act of solidarity after I had been forced to have a hysterectomy. He had said
g, a constant, dull ache in my chest. But I e
l to
back in my hometown. My father, Frank McCormick, had collapsed. A massive
diac unit immediately," the nurse said, her v
re was only one person in the world who could ar
led D
ely hold the phone. He answered on the sec
t, cloying, and drippi
tating right now. We're aligning o
y," I said, my voice dangerou
have to learn to let the Universe handle things. Clinging t
in the background, calm an
shifting to a pout. "She's bein
ay. A moment later, his voice came on the l
ng in my throat. "He's dying, Dwight. He ne
hispering in the background. "Cosmic balance..
words shattered the last
aching me about the natural flow of life and death. The Universe has a
shed over me. The seven years of lies, of his performative forgiveness, of m
g my father d
d, my voice ba
ust stood there, the nurse's frantic w
ht had bought for her. It took me fifteen minutes to get there. The door
white fur rug, lighting incense. She looked u
oing here? Your energ
long, blonde hair, and slammed her face into the marble co
high-pitched,
video call on Dwight's number. He answered instantly.
I tol
ce a bloody mess, her eyes wide with terror, her screa
s a calm,
ce as steady as a surgeon's hand. "Get my f
harity's throat, and she
she

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