Walter stepped into the house after a long day at work, expecting the usual warmth of home. Instead, a piercing wail filled the air. His heart clenched. Logan was crying—again. He walked into the kitchen and found his wife, Abby, slumped in a chair, her hands gripping her temples. Her face was pale, her eyes red and puffy. “Oh, honey,” Walter murmured, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “How long has he been crying like that?” Abby let out a shaky breath and turned to face

I never thought I’d find myself like this—burning with fever, too weak to stand, and completely alone when I needed help the most. My body felt like it wasn’t mine anymore. Every muscle ached, and even lifting my head off the pillow felt impossible. My one-year-old daughter, Lily, sat on the floor beside the bed, her tiny hands clutching a stuffed rabbit. She giggled, babbling happily, oblivious to the fact that her mother was barely holding on. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight off the nausea. This wasn’t

I thought I had met the perfect man. Jake was like someone straight out of a romance novel—successful, charming, and completely captivating. He had this way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world, and for the past month, I believed that was true. Every date with him felt magical. He planned intimate rooftop dinners where the city lights danced around us, quiet evening walks by the river where he held my hand like he never wanted to let go, and surprise picnics in hidden