I had been married for mere days when I found a letter hidden in my husband's garage. Inside an old couch covered in cobwebs, someone had left a warning: "He's lying to you." The words chilled me, but I quickly noticed something even more disturbing about that letter.
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I met Daniel at a Saturday farmers' market.
A peach fell from my bag and rolled away, coming to a stop against a dusty shoe.
"Guess this one's making a break for it," a man said.