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Then I noticed the hallway door standing half-open behind him, and I walked toward it before anyone could stop me.
Or it used to be. The room where I once answered emails late at night and kept neatly stacked folders from the fertility clinic had been transformed into a nursery. The walls were painted a soft sage green. A white crib stood beneath the window. A rocking chair sat in the corner. Folded blankets rested on a shelf. On the dresser was a framed ultrasound photo. Miguel hadn’t just betrayed me. He had redesigned my life around that betrayal.
I turned slowly. Miguel had followed me to the doorway. Carmen stood farther back, one hand pressed against the wall as if she needed support. Rosa had the nerve to look wounded, as though I were damaging something precious simply by seeing it.
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