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This is your divorce contract, Samuel. Please sign it.”

"Are you ready, Anna? To serve Samuel his divorce papers?" His voice was gentle as if he could sense my hesitation.

I nodded slowly, unable to find the words. This was it. After years of suffering, I was finally taking back my life. The papers felt heavy in my hands, symbolic of every battle I had endured. Every tear, every sleepless night.

The maid, standing by the door, glanced at Mr. Mike, awaiting his signal. "Go and call Mr. Samuel. He’s in the guest house," he instructed.

I could hear the faint thump of music coming from the guest house, the sound of Samuel’s "good life." The man I had married had turned into a stranger, indulging in the company of others, in everything that had nothing to do with me. I had long since stopped wondering where I went wrong because I knew now—it was never about me.

I glanced toward my grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Edgewood, lying weakly in her bed. She had been my rock through all of this, her frail hands still able to hold my spirit together even as
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