When Charlotte died at just thirty-five, she left behind more than grief. She left behind nine daughters and a silence that settled heavily into my life, a silence I did not know how to carry or understand. She had been my first love, the kind that quietly shapes everything that comes after. Even though life had taken us in different directions, I had never truly forgotten her or what we once shared. We had been young, uncertain, and unprepared for the weight of real commitment. Circumstances pulled us…
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