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I thought that was the end of it, that I could finally move on, knowing that karma had gotten them both, but two weeks after the Anniversary Cabin Disaster, I received a letter.
It was from Camden.
Oakley, I know I can’t fix anything, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know the truth before someone else tells you. I got a DNA test after everything happened.
The baby… she isn’t mine. She never was. I am sorry.
Camden.
I took his pathetic letter, folded it neatly, and slid it into a drawer beside my ultrasound photo from that life that was never meant to be.
Three months later, I got another call.
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