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When my mother said, “We’re celebrating. Don’t ruin this,” I was in a hospital bed with blood on my dress and a surgeon waiting for my signature. Behind her voice came laughter and the pop of a confetti cannon from my younger sister’s gender-reveal party. Beside me, a nurse watched the fetal monitor with the careful face of someone who already knew my life had split in two.
Chapter 2 I drove to Missoula with one rule: I was going for Dad, not to repair my mother or reclaim my place in the...
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nguyetkok
