I can never forget the exact shade of the sky the moment my life fractured—a piercing, cloudless azure that seemed to mock the devastation unfolding below. It was the color of the swimming pool that would soon try to swallow me whole.
I stood there, eight months pregnant, my hands trembling as they hovered over the empty space where my future had been. My husband, Calvin, stood before me, his eyes cold and unrecognizable.
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