In the same place.
The same mark that my mother had always had on her collarbone.
I raised my hand, trembling.
—That mark… why do you have it?
Celia closed her eyes and took a step back.
The air grew heavy. The room stopped feeling like a suite and began to feel like a trap.
“Because I can no longer remain silent,” she whispered.
And when she opened her mouth to tell the truth, I understood that she couldn’t believe what was about to happen…
Not her dresses. Not her house. Not her money.
I fell in love with the way he listened to me as if I were worth something.
When I confessed at home, I almost got kicked out.
“That woman has you under a spell,” my aunt said.
“What you want is a mom, not a wife,” my cousin spat.
“He’s going to use you and then throw you away,” my father said, hurt.
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