The Death Notice He Gave His Childhood Sweetheart

On our wedding day, Joel Mason told me that as the wife of a billionaire heir, I had to develop a thick skin. I had to get used to the cameras.

So, when I miscarried, photos of me—pale and hemorrhaging—were plastered across the front page.

When my parents died in a car crash, paparazzi blocked me at the funeral hall, shoving microphones in my face while I tried to mourn.

Even the birth of our son was live-streamed. The intrusion was so severe I spiraled into postpartum depression. Because my "mental resilience was too poor," I was cursed onto the trending search lists yet again.