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She was my chosen sister.
My family.
She was the one who dissolved into tears when I showed her the first grainy ultrasound photo.
But, at 19 weeks, the tiny, fluttering life inside me just… stopped.
Camden, my rock, my “solid” husband, cried for 20 minutes, held me tight for one night, and then never mentioned the baby again.
He started taking long, late “walks,” and sleeping with his back turned to me like a concrete barrier.
I was drowning, and he was swimming away.
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