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“Stop,” Margaret said sharply.
Her voice trembled.
“What did you do to her?”
Andrew stammered, trying to form excuses, but Margaret cut him off.
“Don’t lie to me. I know this behavior. I lived with it for years.”
For the first time, she saw her son clearly—and it broke her.
While Andrew stood speechless, Laura and Diego guided me to the car. Before I got in, Margaret rushed to my side.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I should have seen it… but I see it now.”
I nodded, unable to find words.
For the next several weeks, I stayed in a safe shelter where I received emotional support, legal advice, and the quiet space I needed to breathe again. I wasn’t rushing decisions; I was recovering my sense of self.
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