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“You’ll suffer naturally because you’re toxic,” my doctor husband sneered, blocking the nurses from performing a C-section for my giant 10-pound baby as revenge for his intern. I writhed in pain, clutching the bed rails until my knuckles turned white. When the grueling delivery finally ended, the heavy delivery room doors banged open. My husband staggered in, his face drained of color as he looked at the newborn chart, fell to the floor, and shrieked, “No… that’s impossible! Whose child is-“

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powerful, rhythmic, unbroken beating of my own heart. I smiled, a genuine, unburdened expression that felt entirely new.

“You had better keep pace then, Gavin.”

My name is Dr. Allison Palmer. I descended into the slaughterhouse, I severed the rot, and I conquered my own life.

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