My Husband Told Me To Make Miracles With Rice While He Paid For Another Woman’s Luxury Apartment

into their hair. “No, beta. You keep this. Your mother will fill that account again.”

“How?” Anika asked.

I looked at the mop bucket near the kitchen door. At my cracked hands. At the empty space where Raghav’s shoes used to be. “By working,” I said. “But this time, not for a man who feeds another woman while his children learn to chew quietly.”

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