At just fourteen, Emily Harper stood on the front porch with a trembling suitcase and tear-streaked cheeks. The late-September air in Cedar Springs, Kentucky, was crisp, carrying the scent of rain and broken promises. Behind her, her mother’s voice cracked through the wooden door like a final verdict.
“You brought shame to this house, Emily. Don’t come back.”
Emily didn’t argue. She just clutched her belly — the tiny life that had made her an outcast — and took her first step into exile.
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