Embracing My Past A Decade of Second Chances

Following the death of my child, my mind shattered.

Food turned to ash in my mouth. Days blurred into a gray, indistinct haze. Sarah Harding hired the country's top psychologist for me, tending to my every need for over six months.

I didn't want to be a burden anymore. I fought to cooperate with the treatment, forcing myself to read, to write, to anchor myself in reality. I tried every trick to shift my focus away from the grief.

Just as the fog began to lift, a line of text materialized on the page of my diary.

*"Leave Sarah Harding. If you don't, you will die a miserable death."*