n our house w
creasingly hollow, raising our son Leo while my husband, Ethan, a renowned AI ethi
's hand, a dizzy spell, a whispe
ging off his rapid neurolog
inting to Olivia's daughter's mild complaints as proof o
trembling, whispered, "I want Dad
eam, a family, immersed in their multi
a practiced smile, painted me as hysterical, manipulating Etha
e for my work," Ethan coldly accused, choosing hi
moment, something inside me shatter
han," I said,
get a d
asn't the end of a tragedy; it
ath would n
be an e