The Velvet Box and the Hidden Truth: A Story of Betrayal, Courage, and Choosing Yourself – Page 7

A Daughter’s Understanding

The next morning, I sat Emily down. “We’re separating,” I said quietly.

She nodded, left the room, then came back and curled against me.

“I kind of knew,” she whispered. “The perfume. The weirdness.”

My heart cracked as she confessed her secret fear—that maybe his distance was her fault.

“No, sweetheart,” I said, holding her tight. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Her relief was silent, but I felt it in the way her shoulders softened against mine.

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