My Husband Flew His Pregnant Mistress To Miami Until I Froze Their Assets

dawn. In the pre-op room, she helped me fold my clothes and fought not to cry.

“If something happens,” I said, “BrightPath goes to the students. Not the board. Not the Caldwells.”

“Stop.”

“Promise me.”

She nodded as tears spilled.

Then I gave her one final instruction. “When they wheel me in, text Margaret Reed one word.”

“What word?”

“Begin.”

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