Forty years ago, my husband, Daniel, walked out the door to pick up milk and never came back. For decades, I was left with questions, heartbreak, and a life rebuilt from the rubble of his sudden absence. Then, out of nowhere, a mysterious letter arrived, calling me to the train station. What I found there changed everything.
The morning he left was like any other. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, illuminating the little world we had built together. Daniel wrapped his arms around me as I flipped pancakes for breakfast.
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