In Her Letter to Santa, My Daughter Asked for ‘The Same Heart-Shaped Earrings Dad Gave to My Nanny’ — I Went Pale

When Dorothy reads her daughter’s innocent letter to Santa, she’s blindsided by a request for the same heart-shaped earrings her husband apparently gave their nanny. Suspicion spirals into doubt, leading Dorothy to uncover a heartbreaking truth tied to a long-kept secret…

My name’s Dorothy, and Christmas will always be the best time of the year for me. My husband, Jerry, and I have an eight-year-old daughter named Ruth, and our holiday traditions are what make it all magical.

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

Every December, Ruth writes a letter to Santa, folds it carefully, and places it in the freezer, which is bizarre but, to her, makes perfect sense.

“It’s how mail gets to the North Pole, Mom! I saw it on TV,” she said, her eyes wide.

This year was no different. Ruth had spent the better part of the evening at the dining table, her face scrunched in concentration as she sketched something on her letter while popping little chocolate-covered almonds into her mouth.

A bowl of chocolate covered almonds | Source: Midjourney

A bowl of chocolate covered almonds | Source: Midjourney

“It’s done, Mommy!” she chirped, skipping to the freezer and tucking it in with all the ceremony of a royal decree.

I smiled at her. I figured Ruth was asking for the usual things — you know, a new set of paints, a dollhouse, or maybe even the glittery unicorn toy she’d been eyeing.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t wait to make her little Christmas wishes come true. Ruth wasn’t a difficult child, and Christmas was the only time she asked for things. Even on her birthday, she wouldn’t ask for anything other than a huge chocolate cake.

A little girl with a chocolate cake | Source: Midjourney

A little girl with a chocolate cake | Source: Midjourney

That night, after Ruth had gone to bed, with Jerry reading to her, I crept into the kitchen to read her letter.

It had become my own little tradition. I loved peeking into my daughter’s world, seeing what magic she believed Santa could bring her, and all the reasons she gave him for being on the “Nice” list.

But as I unfolded the paper, my breath caught in my throat, almost choking me.

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

The page was filled with Ruth’s colorful handwriting and a drawing of a pair of heart-shaped earrings. Beneath the picture were the words:

“Dear Santa, please bring me the same heart-shaped earrings Dad gave to my nanny! Thank you!”

I froze.

A letter to Santa | Source: Midjourney

A letter to Santa | Source: Midjourney

The room suddenly felt too quiet, the air too thick.

What on earth was she talking about? Jerry had given Gloria, our nanny, heart-shaped earrings?

My hands shook as I reread the note, my heart racing. Why would Ruth ask for earrings like Gloria’s? Why would Jerry give our nanny jewelry at all?

My mind replayed moments I hadn’t given much thought to before, like the way Jerry’s face lit up when he joked with Gloria, the casual way he asked her to stay late when I had work functions, the thoughtful gifts he’d given her over the years… small things, sure, but enough to make my stomach churn now.

A pair of heart-shaped earrings | Source: Midjourney

A pair of heart-shaped earrings | Source: Midjourney

Was I blind to the obvious? Had Jerry been hiding an affair right under my nose?

The next morning, I went about my day as if nothing had happened, but inside, I was unraveling. I kissed Jerry on the cheek as he left for work, pretending everything was fine. Meanwhile, my brain was on overdrive.

“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked Gloria as she poured milk into Ruth’s cereal.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

School was closed for the day, and I needed to know that Gloria was going to actually be productive with my child.

“We’re going to work on Ruth’s school projects,” Gloria said, smiling. “And then we’re going to read!”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I have work to do, so I’m going to be in the study for most of the day. But we can grab smoothies later, Ruthie. You can leave early, Gloria.”

A woman holding a bottle of milk | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a bottle of milk | Source: Midjourney

Gloria nodded and picked up Ruth’s breakfast. They had gotten into the habit of eating outside, trying to identify birds as they went along.

After Ruth and Gloria left the kitchen, I grabbed my laptop and ordered a nanny cam. It felt surreal, like something out of a bad soap opera that I had suddenly found myself in. I hated that I couldn’t just confront Jerry outright, but if he denied everything, I’d be no closer to the truth.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Midjourney

A woman using a laptop | Source: Midjourney

Thanks to speedy but ridiculously expensive delivery, the camera arrived a few hours later. I set it up in the living room, hiding it among the Christmas decorations.

As much as I didn’t want to, I had to know.

The next day, Jerry left for work as usual, and I dropped Ruth off at school. Gloria was home tidying up, humming along to Christmas carols on the radio.

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

I plastered on a fake smile and told her I’d be home late from work and to lock up when she left.

But by mid-morning, things changed.

My phone buzzed, indicating that the nanny cam app had detected motion. I opened it and saw Jerry standing in the living room. My heart dropped. He wasn’t supposed to be home.

I stared at the screen, watching as Jerry handed Gloria a small, gift-wrapped box. She looked surprised, then smiled as she opened it.

A box on a table | Source: Midjourney

A box on a table | Source: Midjourney

My head spun. I couldn’t sit at my desk for another second. I grabbed my bag, mumbled something about a family emergency to my boss, and drove home.

When I walked through the door, I felt like I’d stepped into a nightmare. Jerry was still there, standing near the couch, and Gloria was sitting with the gift in her lap. This time, it was a heart-shaped pendant.

Something to match those earrings, huh?

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman driving | Source: Midjourney

They both froze when they saw me.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, my voice trembling.

Neither of them answered right away. My eyes darted to Gloria’s ears, which were on display with her braided hair. And there they were.

The earrings. Heart-shaped, just like Ruth had drawn.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Nice earrings, Gloria!” I spat, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “It must be nice to get all these things from my husband. Imagine. Jewelry from another woman’s husband.”

Gloria’s face went pale. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jerry stepped forward.

“Dot, stop,” he said, using my nickname to calm me down. “I can explain it all.”

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” I shot back. “And it better be good, because from where I’m standing it looks like you’ve been sneaking around behind my back! With our nanny!”

Jerry sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping.

“You weren’t supposed to find out this way.”

“That’s your explanation, Jerry?” I shouted. “That you weren’t supposed to get caught?”

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman | Source: Midjourney

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Just listen to me… okay? Those earrings. They’re not from me. Not really.”

“What does that even mean, Jerry?”

My husband hesitated, then took a deep breath.

A man with his hand on his head | Source: Midjourney

A man with his hand on his head | Source: Midjourney

“They were from Brian. My… well, we were best friends.”

The anger drained from my body, replaced by thick confusion.

“Brian? Who’s Brian?” I asked.

Gloria spoke up for the first time, her voice soft.

“Brian was Jerry’s best friend, Dorothy. My brother.”

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

My mind spun. Jerry sat me down, his voice heavy with guilt as he explained everything.

Fourteen years ago, his best friend Brian had passed away from cancer. Before he died, he asked Jerry to look after Gloria. At least it explained why Jerry had pushed for us to hire her.

She was only 19 at the time and had recently lost her parents too.

“He left me a box of gifts for her,” Jerry said, his voice on edge. “He wanted her to have pieces of him for milestones in her life—like birthdays, special occasions, moments where she needed to feel he was still with her. He planned all of it while he was undergoing chemo.”

An IV drip in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

An IV drip in a hospital | Source: Midjourney

I glanced at Gloria, whose eyes shimmered with tears.

Jerry continued to explain.

“I’ve been fulfilling that promise ever since. The earrings were in the box. They were meant for her and they were given by Brian. Not from me.”

I stared at him, the weight of his confession sinking in.

A pensive woman | Source: Midjourney

A pensive woman | Source: Midjourney

“So you’re telling me all this sneaking around… you were keeping a promise.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “I should have told you sooner, Dot. I just didn’t know how. It’s not exactly the kind of thing that comes up in conversation. And… talking about Brian is a lot for me.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked Gloria. “You knew about Brian and Jerry the entire time and just… didn’t? Ruth asked for these earrings, dammit. She asked Santa for them, and that’s why I thought something was going on.”

A woman with folded arms | Source: Midjourney

A woman with folded arms | Source: Midjourney

Gloria shook her head sadly.

“I didn’t know Ruth would notice the earrings, let alone ask for them. If I had, I would’ve explained everything right away. I never wanted to cause trouble for anyone here…”

That Christmas was a mix of heartbreak and healing. Jerry and I had a long talk, and while I wasn’t thrilled about the secrets, I couldn’t deny the beauty of his promise to Brian. And honestly, Gloria was a part of our family. Ruth adored her.

A smiling woman and child | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman and child | Source: Midjourney

We decided to sit down with Ruth and a platter of waffles, trying to explain the story behind the earrings in a way she could understand. She was fascinated, of course, and still insisted Santa had to bring her a pair.

And Santa delivered.

On Christmas morning, Ruth opened a tiny box to find her very own heart-shaped earrings. Her face lit up brighter than the tree, and for the first time in weeks, I felt my heart swell with joy instead of doubt.

A pair of heart-shaped earrings | Source: Midjourney

A pair of heart-shaped earrings | Source: Midjourney

Those earrings became more than just jewelry. They became a sort of reminder — of love and strength. Of Brian’s love for his sister. Of Jerry’s loyalty to his friend. And the love that kept our family together, even through misunderstandings. We also taught Ruth the power of promises and unconditional love.

Sometimes, the truth hurts. But sometimes, it heals.

And this Christmas, it did both.

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

Hosting Christmas for my in-laws was supposed to be a joyous affair, but the evening took a shocking turn when my mother-in-law gifted me something that left the entire room speechless. What started as festive cheer quickly spiraled into an unforgettable family showdown.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

I’m Raising My Twin Grandsons Alone After Their Mom Passed — One Day, a Woman Knocked on My Door with a Terrible Secret

A knock at the door was the last thing I expected that evening. But when a stranger handed me a letter from my late daughter, it unraveled a secret so profound it changed everything I thought I knew about my family.

I never thought my life would turn out this way. At 62, I imagined mornings filled with quiet coffee rituals, tending to my small garden, and maybe the occasional book club meeting with the ladies down the street.

A closeup shot of a senior woman smiling while standing in her home garden | Source: Midjourney

A closeup shot of a senior woman smiling while standing in her home garden | Source: Midjourney

Instead, I wake up to the pitter-patter of tiny feet, the smell of spilled cereal, and Jack and Liam hollering about who gets the blue spoon. They’re five—sweet and chaotic all at once—and they’re my grandsons.

Their mother, my daughter Emily, passed away last year in a car accident. She was just thirty-four. Losing her felt like losing the air in my lungs. She wasn’t just my child; she was my best friend.

A closeup shot of a woman laying flowers on a tombstone | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a woman laying flowers on a tombstone | Source: Pexels

The twin boys… they’re all I have left of her. Every time I look at them, I see Emily’s bright eyes and mischievous smile. It’s bittersweet, but it’s what keeps me going.

Life as their grandmother-slash-mom isn’t easy. The days are long, and the nights feel even longer when one of them has a nightmare or insists the closet monster moved.

“Grandma!” Liam wailed just last week. “Jack says I’m gonna get eaten first ’cause I’m smaller!”

I had to stifle a laugh as I reassured them that no monster would dare step foot in a house with me in charge.

A senior woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

Still, some moments break me. Keeping up with their boundless energy, school projects, and endless questions, like why the sky is blue or why they can’t have ice cream for breakfast can be exhausting at times. Some nights, after they’ve finally fallen asleep, I sit on the couch with Emily’s photo and whisper, “Am I doing this right? Are they okay?”

But nothing, not the sleepless nights, not the tantrums, not even the crushing loneliness, could have prepared me for the knock on the door that evening.

A closeup shot of a woman holding a door knocker | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a woman holding a door knocker | Source: Pexels

It was just after dinner. Jack and Liam were sprawled out in front of the TV, giggling at some cartoon I didn’t understand, while I folded their laundry in the dining room. When the doorbell rang, I froze. I wasn’t expecting anyone. My neighbor, Mrs. Cartwright, usually called before stopping by, and I hadn’t ordered anything online.

I opened the door cautiously. The woman standing there wasn’t familiar. She looked to be in her late thirties, her blond hair pulled back into a messy bun, her eyes red-rimmed like she’d been crying for days.

A blonde-haired woman with tired eyes standing on a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A blonde-haired woman with tired eyes standing on a doorway | Source: Midjourney

She clutched a small envelope in her hands, trembling as if it weighed more than it should.

“Are you Mrs. Harper?” she asked, her voice quiet and unsteady.

I tightened my grip on the doorframe. “Yes. Can I help you?”

She hesitated, glancing behind me at the sound of Jack squealing over a joke Liam told. “I… I’m Rachel. I need to talk to you. It’s about Emily.”

My heart stopped. Nobody talked about Emily anymore, not without treading carefully, like they were afraid I might shatter.

A surprised senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

A surprised senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

And yet here was this stranger, saying her name like a bomb she couldn’t hold any longer. I felt my throat tighten. “What about Emily?”

“It’s not something I can explain here.” Her voice cracked. “Please… may I come in?”

Every instinct screamed at me to shut the door. But there was something in her eyes—desperation mixed with fear—that made me reconsider. Against my better judgment, I stepped aside. “Alright. Come in.”

A blonde-haired woman looking desperate and sad while standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

A blonde-haired woman looking desperate and sad while standing outside a house | Source: Midjourney

Rachel followed me into the living room. The boys barely glanced her way, too engrossed in their cartoon. I gestured for her to sit, but she remained standing, clutching that envelope like it might explode.

Finally, she thrust the envelope toward me. “Give me the boys! You don’t know the truth about them.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, utterly baffled by her audacity and the strange demand.

An extremely surprised woman | Source: Midjourney

An extremely surprised woman | Source: Midjourney

Rachel hesitated, clearly sensing my unease. Her hands trembled as she took a deep breath. “Emily told me to give you this if something ever happened to her. I didn’t know where to find you, and I wasn’t ready. But you need to read it.”

I stared at the envelope, my hands trembling as I took it. My name was written on the front in Emily’s handwriting. Tears blurred my vision. “What is this?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Rachel’s face crumpled. “It’s the truth. About the boys. About… everything.”

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

A sad woman | Source: Midjourney

“What truth?” My voice rose. The boys stirred at my tone, and I quickly lowered it. “What are you talking about?”

She stepped back like she’d said too much already. “Just read the letter. Please.”

With shaking fingers, I slid the envelope open. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly. My breath caught in my throat as I unfolded it, bracing myself for whatever was about to come next.

A closeup shot of a woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a woman reading a letter | Source: Pexels

Dear Mom,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m not there to explain things myself, and for that, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave you with unanswered questions, which is why you need to read this letter till the very end.

There’s something I need you to know. Jack and Liam… they aren’t Daniel’s sons. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought it would hurt you, but the truth is, they’re Rachel’s.

A grayscale photo of a pregnant woman | Source: Pexels

A grayscale photo of a pregnant woman | Source: Pexels

Rachel and I had Jack and Liam through IVF. I loved her, Mom. I know it’s not what you expected from me, but she made me happy in ways I never thought possible. When Daniel left, I didn’t need him—I had her.

But things got complicated. Recently, Rachel and I weren’t on the best terms, but she deserves to be in our boys’ lives. And they deserve to know her.

Please don’t hate me for keeping this from you. I was scared of how you’d react. But I know you’ll do what’s best for them. You always do.

– Love, Emily

A closeup shot of a person writing a letter | Source: Pexels

A closeup shot of a person writing a letter | Source: Pexels

The letter was heavy in my hands as though the weight of Emily’s truth had seeped into the paper itself. Emily’s secret life unraveled before my eyes in her neat handwriting, each word cutting deeper than the last.

Rachel sat quietly across from me, her face pale and drawn. “I loved her,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “We even fought before her accident. She didn’t think I’d step up as a parent. She was afraid I’d disappear if things got too hard.”

A woman in pain closes her eyes | Source: Midjourney

A woman in pain closes her eyes | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head, still struggling to process what she was saying. “Emily told me Daniel left because he didn’t want the responsibility of children. That he just… walked away.”

Rachel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s true, in a way. Daniel never wanted to be a father. And Emily… all she wanted was to be a mom. It wasn’t easy for her—she struggled to make that dream come true. But Daniel couldn’t understand that. He couldn’t understand her.

I stared at her, my chest tightening. “What do you mean? He didn’t leave because of them?”

A back view shot of a man walking away | Source: Pexels

A back view shot of a man walking away | Source: Pexels

“No,” Rachel said, her voice thick with emotion. “Emily told him everything after the boys were born. She explained that they weren’t his. That they were mine. She even told him about us—about our relationship.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “And he just… disappeared?”

Rachel nodded. “She said he was hurt but not angry. He told her he couldn’t stay and pretend to be their father, not when they weren’t his. Not when she didn’t love him.”

A worried woman covering her face with her hand | Source: Pexels

A worried woman covering her face with her hand | Source: Pexels

My throat felt dry. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because she was afraid,” Rachel said. “She thought you’d never accept it. She thought she’d lose you. She didn’t leave me because she stopped loving me. She left because she loved you more.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Emily had carried all of this—her love for Rachel, her fears about her family, her struggles with Daniel—without saying a word to me. And now she was gone, leaving Rachel and me to pick up the pieces.

A senior woman is in disbelief | Source: Midjourney

A senior woman is in disbelief | Source: Midjourney

I wiped my eyes, my voice sharp. “And you think you can just walk in here and take them? After all this time?”

Rachel flinched but didn’t back down. “Why can’t I?” I’m their mom, and I have every right to be a part of their lives. Besides, Emily wanted me to be here. She left me that letter because she trusted me.”

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. My mind was a storm of emotions: grief, anger, confusion, love. That night, I couldn’t sleep.

A sad and worried woman lying in bed awake at night | Source: Midjourney

A sad and worried woman lying in bed awake at night | Source: Midjourney

The boys’ peaceful faces reminded me of how fragile their world was, and I knew I had to tread carefully.

The next morning, I invited Rachel back. The boys were eating breakfast when she arrived, their chatter filling the kitchen. Rachel stood awkwardly in the doorway, clutching a bag of storybooks.

“Boys,” I said, kneeling to their level. “This is Rachel. She was a very close friend of your mommy’s. She’s going to spend some time with us. Is that okay?”

Smiling twin boys | Source: Midjourney

Smiling twin boys | Source: Midjourney

Jack frowned, his little face scrunching up. “Like a babysitter?”

Rachel knelt beside me, her voice steady. “Not quite. I was friends with your mommy when we were in college. I’d like to get to know you. Maybe we can read some of these books together?”

Liam peeked into her bag. “Do you have dinosaur books?”

Rachel smiled. “A whole stack.”

Over the next few weeks, Rachel became a regular presence in our home. At first, I watched her like a hawk, wary of her intentions. But the boys took to her quickly, especially Liam, who adored her silly voices during story time.

A children's book lying next to stuffed bears on a rack | Source: Pexels

A children’s book lying next to stuffed bears on a rack | Source: Pexels

Slowly, I began to see her love for them; not just as someone trying to fulfill a promise to Emily, but as their mother.

One evening, as we washed dishes together, Rachel broke the silence. “Emily was scared,” she said. “She thought I wasn’t ready to be a parent. And, at the time, she wasn’t wrong. I worked all the time. I thought providing for her and the boys was enough, but she needed me to be present. I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

A depressed woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A depressed woman looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

I glanced at her, the vulnerability in her voice catching me off guard. “And now?”

“Now, I understand what she was trying to tell me,” Rachel said, her voice breaking. “I know I can’t make up for the time I missed, but I want to try.”

It wasn’t easy. There were moments when the tension between us boiled over, when I felt like she was intruding, or when she doubted herself. But the boys were thriving, and I couldn’t deny the joy Rachel brought into their lives. Slowly, we found a rhythm.

Happy twin boys | Source: Midjourney

Happy twin boys | Source: Midjourney

One afternoon, as we sat on the porch watching Jack and Liam play, Rachel turned to me. “I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you,” she said. “For keeping secrets. For not stepping up sooner.”

I nodded, my voice soft. “It’s okay, Rachel. I know Emily kept a lot of secrets. But I don’t think she meant to hurt us. She just… she was scared.”

Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. “She wasn’t ashamed of me, you know. She was afraid of how the world would treat us. Of how her family would treat us.”

A teary-eyed woman holding a tissue | Source: Pexels

A teary-eyed woman holding a tissue | Source: Pexels

I reached out, squeezing her hand. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize how much she was carrying.”

“She loved you,” Rachel whispered. “She talked about you all the time. She wanted to make you proud.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at the boys. They were laughing, their faces so full of joy it almost hurt to look at them. “She did. Every day.”

A woman with understanding and warmth in her eyes | Source: Midjourney

A woman with understanding and warmth in her eyes | Source: Midjourney

In time, Rachel became “Mama Rachel” to Jack and Liam. She didn’t replace Emily or me; she simply became an addition to our little family. Together, we honored Emily’s memory, raising the boys in a home filled with love and acceptance.

One evening, as we watched the sunset, Rachel turned to me and said, “Thank you for letting me be here. I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“It’s not,” I admitted. “But Emily wanted this. And… I can see how much you love them.”

Twin brothers having fun outdoors | Source: Midjourney

Twin brothers having fun outdoors | Source: Midjourney

“I do,” she whispered. “But I also see how much they love you. You’re their rock, Mrs. Harper. I don’t want to take that away.”

“You’re not, Rachel I can see that now.”

“Emily would be so proud of you, Mrs. Harper. Of how you’ve handled all of this.”

I smiled, the tears falling freely now. “She’d be proud of both of us.”

A smiling senior woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling senior woman | Source: Midjourney

As Jack and Liam ran toward us, their laughter ringing out like music, I knew we were doing exactly what Emily would have wanted—building a life filled with love, warmth, and second chances.

Liked how this story turned out? Here’s another one to keep you entertained: What do you do when love turns conditional? When the baby you carried in your womb as a surrogate is deemed ‘unwanted’? Abigail dealt with that heartbreak when her sister and her husband saw the baby she birthed for them and shrieked: ‘THIS ISN’T THE BABY WE EXPECTED. WE DON’T WANT IT.’

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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