When I opened that small, crumpled piece of paper, I never imagined those five words in my daughter’s handwriting would change everything: Pretend to be sick and leave. I looked at her, confused, but the fear in her eyes was impossible to ignore. That Saturday morning had started like any other, with Richard hosting a brunch for his business partners. I was busy in the kitchen when Sarah pulled me aside, trembling, and handed me the note. “Trust me, Mom. Leave now,” she whispered.
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