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On my wedding day, everything seemed perfect until my past walked into the ceremony uninvited. A promise made years ago and a man determined to remind me of it threatened to unravel the life I’d built. Could I let go of the past, or would it destroy my future?
I leaned back on the couch, cradling my coffee cup and letting the black liquid swirl lazily. The lights of Manhattan glittered like a million tiny promises just beyond the window. That evening, I felt… complete. At 39, that was no small thing.
“Who knew Rachel,” I murmured aloud. “You’ve got it all figured out now, don’t you?”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Years of climbing the corporate ladder had left little room for anything else.
Success? Sure. Independence? Absolutely. But happiness?
That had always been… elusive. The type that lingered at the edges of the room like a forgotten shadow.
Dating had always been a disaster.
“Remember Scott?” I laughed softly. “Wanted me to quit my job and move to Montana. Montana!”
And then there was Greg, who turned every conversation into a TED Talk about himself.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
But Michael? Michael is different.
My lips curved into a soft smile at the thought of him. Scatterbrained Michael, who once set off the fire alarm while trying to toast bread. The man who adored noisy dinner parties and dragged me into conversations I didn’t want to have but somehow made them fun.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He isn’t perfect, no. But he is… mine.
A week ago, he’d changed everything.
“Rachel,” he had said, kneeling in the kitchen. He was holding out his grandmother’s vintage ring. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Be my wife.”
Of course, I said yes. What else could I have said?
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Suddenly, my thoughts drifted to Linda, my future MIL. She wasn’t exactly warm. Our conversations had been polite, but there was always something in her tone, as if she was sizing me up, waiting for me to prove I wasn’t good enough for Michael.
She doesn’t know me yet. People like her just need time, don’t they?
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Besides, the engagement party was the following day. Everything was planned to perfection.
Nothing can spoil it. This is our moment.
At least, that’s what I thought then.
***
The engagement party sparkled with life. The warm glow of the fairy lights above cast a magical atmosphere. Michael was at my side, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back as guests came up to offer their congratulations.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You two make such a perfect couple!” one of his cousins gushed, raising her glass. “To love and happiness!”
“To love and happiness!” echoed the room as everyone toasted.
I felt like I was walking on air, wrapped in a bubble of warmth and hope. That was what happiness was supposed to feel like. Secure and untouchable. And then it happened!
A figure appeared in the doorway. Then our eyes met. It was Brian!
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
His presence felt like a ghost stepping out of my past, dragging memories I had long buried. Without thinking, I excused myself quickly, murmuring something to Michael about needing air. I found Brian near the hallway.
“Rachel,” he said softly.
“What are you doing here, Brian? How did you even know about this?”
“You’re not exactly a hard person to track down. And when I heard you were engaged, I figured it was time to finally talk.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said quickly, glancing back toward the party. “This is not the time or the place.”
But Brian stepped closer, his tone lowering. “It’s been ten years, Rachel. Ten. And all this time, I’ve been writing to you.”
“What? I’ve never received anything from you.”
“I sent dozens of letters, Rachel. They were ignored. Or… Someone made sure you never saw a single word.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“That’s ridiculous,” I snapped. “Who could…”
“Who? Ask yourself, Rachel. How well do you know Michael? Or his mother? Do you think she’s thrilled about you stepping into the picture?”
“You’re lying. This is just some desperate attempt to…”
“To what?” Brian interrupted sharply. “To ruin your happiness? Believe me, Rachel, I came to tell you the truth.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He took a deliberate step closer, lowering his voice. “We made a pact, Rachel. Do you remember? If we were still single at 40, we’d marry each other. And here I am, trying to honor that promise.”
“Brian, whatever you think we had or promised each other—it’s in the past. My life is with Michael now.”
“Is it? Are you sure? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re marrying into something you don’t fully understand.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “Brian, stop. Just stop. You’re twisting things to…”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
He interrupted. “To get you to open your eyes? Rachel, you’re walking into something you don’t fully see. And once you’re in, it might be too late to get out.”
I turned sharply, desperate to leave, but as I did, I caught a glimpse of Linda standing just around the corner. Her face was calm, almost unnervingly so, but her eyes gave her away. She had heard everything. Every single word.
“Rachel,” she said smoothly, ignoring Brian entirely. “Is everything alright? Michael’s been looking for you.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Everything’s fine.”
But nothing was fine.
***
When I returned home, I tried my best to stay calm, though a quiet unease churned inside me. Maybe it was Linda’s presence. She had decided to stay with us to “help” in the final days before the wedding. Or perhaps it was the lingering tension from seeing Brian at the engagement party. Either way, my nerves felt frayed.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I wandered into the kitchen, deciding that a cup of tea with lemon might settle me. But as I pressed the knife against the lemon’s rind, my hand slipped. A sharp sting shot through my finger.
“Great!”
I grabbed a paper towel to stop the bleeding and went upstairs to find a plaster. That’s when I opened Michael’s drawer.
dr
My finger throbbed from the accidental cut, but what I found instead made my heart stop. A small box, neatly tucked under a pile of dribs and drabs. I pulled it out.
Inside were letters. Dozens of them addressed to me! My breath caught as I unfolded the first one. It was from Brian. Each letter, carefully written, was an attempt to reconnect, to share his feelings. And yet, I had never seen them until that moment.
Suddenly, I heard Michael’s footsteps. “What’s that?”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I stood, clutching the letters. “You tell me, Michael. Why do you have these? All this time, you’ve been lying to me. Why?”
“Because I was scared of losing you. I didn’t want him to come between us.”
“Come between us?” I laughed bitterly, waving the letters in his face. “Do you hear yourself? You didn’t even give me a chance to decide for myself!”
“Rachel, please,” he begged. “I love you. Everything I did was to protect us.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You protected yourself, Michael. How can I marry someone who doesn’t trust me to make my own decisions?”
Before he could respond, a new voice cut through the tension.
“Well, isn’t this dramatic,” Linda said, stepping into the room.
“This isn’t your business, Linda.”
“It became my business the moment you decided to humiliate him. What about today’s date? Maybe you’re not as perfect as you think you are.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and stormed out. The cool night air hit me like a slap as I rushed down the street. That night, I needed to make everything clear.
So, I went to see Brian. To my luck, I still remembered his address.
***
After the night I had, everything became crystal clear. No doubts, no confusion. All of them had melted away, leaving me with a single, unwavering plan.
I am not going to let anyone else dictate this day. My wedding will play out exactly how I want.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
By the time I stepped into the ceremony hall, I had rehearsed every moment in my mind. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the low hum of guests’ conversations. Michael stood at the altar, his smile steady and full of love.
But my eyes, for just a brief moment, flickered to the back row. And there he was. Brian. He was sitting casually, a confident smirk playing on his lips. I sent him an almost invisible smile.
ma
Finally, the officiant asked the question that everyone dreads yet anticipates. “If anyone here has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
A hush fell over the room. I was waiting for Brian’s move. Finally, Brian rose to his feet.
“Actually. I do.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned to him.
Brian looked directly at me. “Rachel and I have a history. We made a promise to each other years ago, and she hasn’t fulfilled it.”
Slowly, I turned toward Brian, offering him a small, calm smile.
“Brian, why don’t you turn around?”
He followed my gaze. There was the woman I’d invited the night before.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I remembered how I’d found her the previous night, when I came to his place. She was sitting on the couch next to Brian, smiling at him like he was her whole world. It had taken only a few minutes to realize the truth: Brian wasn’t in my life for love.
“Brian,” the woman said, “I believed in you. And all this time, you’ve been lying to me, using me while obsessing over her?”
The guests gasped as she pointed toward me.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’re nothing but a selfish, manipulative coward,” she spat. “I can’t believe I ever loved you.”
Brian stammered. “It’s not what it looks like! I just needed her to…”
“To what?”
“You don’t understand! She pretended I didn’t exist. I wasn’t going to let her forget!”
I stayed silent, watching him unravel.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You didn’t come here for love,” she said. “You came here to ruin hers.”
“I just wanted her to feel the way I felt,” Brian muttered.
The truth was out, and there was no taking it back.
“Escort him out, please,” I said softly to the nearby ushers.
As Brian was led away, I turned to the guests. “I’m so sorry for the disruption. But I needed this moment to close the chapter on my past.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The ceremony resumed, and nothing could overshadow our happiness after that.
Later, as Michael and I danced, he whispered, “What a show, my dear. I hope I’ll never see it again. I worried when you disappeared last night, but I never doubted you’d come back.”
I smiled, finally telling him about my visit to Brian and the woman. “She deserved the truth, just like I did. I came to tell him that you’re my future. But then, I saw her. Decided she also deserves a better man.”
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
As I stood next to Michael, his hand warm in mine, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. The past no longer had power over me.
I glanced at the guests. My eyes caught Linda’s in the crowd. For the first time, she gave me a small, approving nod. At that moment, I felt a deep sense of peace, as if the universe itself had aligned just for us.
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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
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My MIL Abandoned My Daughter 20 Years Ago, Claiming She Wasn’t Her Son’s – Now She’s Back with Flowers and Cake to Win Us Over
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Kicked out into the cold with her newborn and nowhere to go, a widowed Cindy rebuilt her life. Twenty years later, her mother-in-law, who abandoned her granddaughter by claiming she wasn’t her son’s, arrived at their doorstep, smiling with an olive branch and a hidden motive.
Twenty years ago, my life shattered. The first week after my husband Josh died felt like being stuck in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. He was my world, my partner, my best friend… my everything.
But a car accident took him just a month after our daughter, Laurel, was born. Losing him was like losing the ground beneath me. And with baby by my side, I was clinging to whatever strength I could muster to face life head-on.
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A woman holding a newborn baby | Source: Pexels
Moving in with my mother-in-law, Margaret, seemed like the only option. I thought, “Maybe there’s still a lifeline here.” I hoped she’d support me — support us — but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
One night, as I rocked Laurel to sleep, Margaret stormed into the living room, her sharp heels clicking against the wooden floor. I knew something was wrong the moment I saw her. Her lips were pressed tight, and she was gripping my suitcase like it had offended her.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she snapped, throwing the bag down by my feet. “You need to leave. This isn’t a free ride.”
I rose, stunned. “Margaret, what are you talking about?”
She crossed her arms, her gaze cutting through me like a knife. “That baby? She’s not Josh’s. And I won’t have you leeching off me while pretending she is.”
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An angry senior woman pointing her finger | Source: Midjourney
The room spun. “What are you saying? She’s his daughter—”
“Spare me the tears.” Her voice was ice cold. “You cheated on my son. Get out.”
I don’t remember much after that. Just packing the little I could grab, holding Laurel close as we stepped into the freezing night. That was the first of many nights on park benches, trying to shield her from the cold while her cries echoed in my ears.
If it weren’t for my best friend Eden, I don’t know where we’d be. She found us when I was at rock bottom, shivering outside a coffee shop, trying to warm up Laurel’s bottle.
“Cindy? Oh my God, what happened?” she asked, pulling me inside before I could protest.
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A shocked woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels
From that moment, she became our guardian angel.
Eden gave us a place to stay, helped me find work, and eventually, I got back on my feet. It wasn’t much… just a one-room apartment with creaky floors and a leaky faucet. But it was ours.
The years passed, and while I saw Margaret around town now and then, she never so much as glanced my way. Not at the grocery store, not even when we were within a few feet of each other.
It was like we didn’t exist for each other.
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An annoyed senior woman in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward 20 years, and Laurel was thriving. She was in nursing school, bright and compassionate, with a future so much bigger than the one Margaret tried to take from us.
For her 20th birthday, we kept it simple. Eden, Jake (Laurel’s boyfriend), and I shared stories and laughter over the chocolate cake I’d baked.
And then came the unexpected knock on the door.
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A delighted young woman celebrating her birthday | Source: Midjourney
I opened it, and there she was — Margaret, looking polished as ever, holding a bouquet of white roses and a plastic cake container. Her smile was that same forced sweetness I remembered.
“Cindy,” she said, her voice syrupy. “It’s been so long. May I come in?”
Before I could respond, she breezed past me, stepping into the living room like she owned the place.
Her eyes landed on Laurel. “Oh, my! Look at you! You’re all grown up… just like your grandmother!”
Laurel blinked, glancing between me and Margaret. “Mom, who is this?”
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A smiling older lady holding a bouquet of white roses | Source: Midjourney
Margaret gasped, clutching her chest like it hurt her. “You mean your mother NEVER told you about me? I’m your GRANDMOTHER, darling. I’ve thought about you every single day.”
Eden’s fork clinked against her plate. “She’s joking, right?”
Margaret shot her a withering look before turning her attention back to Laurel. “I’ve missed so much of your life. But I’m here now. I want to make things right.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Make things right?” My voice was sharp, cutting through the room. “You abandoned us, Margaret. You called Laurel a mistake and tossed us out in the middle of winter. Now you want to play the doting grandmother?”
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A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
Margaret waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, Cindy, don’t exaggerate. It’s water under the bridge. What matters is that we’re together now.”
Laurel rose from the couch, her face unreadable. “I need a minute.” She walked into the kitchen, and I followed her, my heart racing.
“Laurel, don’t let her get in your head,” I said the moment we were alone.
She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. “What happened back then, Mom? Why didn’t you ever tell me about her?”
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A distressed woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed hard, the memories flooding back. “Because she didn’t deserve to be part of your life. She kicked us out when we needed her most, Laurel. She called you…” My voice cracked. “She said you weren’t Josh’s. That you weren’t his daughter.”
Laurel’s jaw tightened. “She said that?”
I nodded. “She only cares about herself. Don’t fall for this act.”
She took a deep breath, then placed a hand on my arm. “I trust you, Mom. I just… I need to handle this my way.”
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A heartbroken senior woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
When we returned to the living room, Laurel sat across from Margaret, her posture relaxed but her eyes steel-sharp. “Why this sudden change of heart,” she said, each word measured, “after 20 years of silence? Did you just remember we exist?”
Margaret hesitated. The silence stretched, brittle as old glass, before she sighed dramatically. “Well, dear, I won’t mince words. I’m not here for lengthy explanations. I need something from you and the family. I’ve fallen on hard times. My health is failing, and I thought… well, family should take care of family.”
A charged silence filled the room. Eden’s jaw dropped. Jake muttered a single, stunned, “Unbelievable!”
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An older woman sitting on the couch and smiling | Source: Midjourney
Laurel’s head tilted, a movement both curious and predatory. “You want us to take care of you?”
“Just a little help,” Margaret said, her hand fluttering to her chest in a performance of vulnerability. “I’ve missed so much of your lives. Isn’t it only fair?”
I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. “FAIR? You think it’s fair to throw my late husband’s widow and newborn out into the cold, brand her a liar, and now sweep in asking for help?”
Margaret’s fingers clutched her pearls, her indignation rising like a carefully rehearsed act. “I’ve apologized, haven’t I? And clearly, you’ve done well for yourselves. Surely you can spare a little generosity.”
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Side shot of an older woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
Her tone shifted, becoming plaintive. “Nobody wants to care for me now. My own daughter is ready to ship me off to a nursing home. I just want to be loved and cared for in my golden years.”
Laurel remained silent. I watched the calculations behind her eyes as she studied the woman who had so casually discarded us years ago. Margaret, seemingly oblivious, continued her self-serving monologue.
“I’m simply suggesting,” she purred, a predatory softness in her voice, “that I could use a place to stay. Here, perhaps. With my darling granddaughter. Think of all the moments we could share.”
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An older woman shrugging | Source: Midjourney
Eden’s restraint snapped. “You’ve got audacity,” she said, her voice razor-edged. “This is the granddaughter you left homeless, in case that convenient memory of yours has forgotten.”
Margaret dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand, as if swatting away an inconvenient truth. “Oh, let’s not dwell on ancient history. We’re here now, aren’t we? We’re family. And that’s what truly matters.”
Jake snorted. “Family? That’s rich coming from you, lady!”
Margaret ignored him, turning to Laurel. “I was hoping I could stay here for a while. Just until I get back on my feet.”
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Close-up shot of a serious-looking young man in a room | Source: Midjourney
Eden raised an eyebrow. “You want to live here? With them? After everything you’ve done? Wow!”
Margaret’s tone turned defensive. “Oh, let’s not dredge up the past. I’ve apologized—”
“No, you haven’t,” I interrupted. “Not once.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed at me. “I’m here now. Isn’t that enough?”
Laurel’s voice emerged, calm yet unyielding. “You want me to let you live here? After you threw my mom and me out?”
Margaret’s practiced smile wavered. “Darling, it was a mistake. Surely you can understand—”
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An angry young lady frowning | Source: Midjourney
“What I understand,” Laurel interrupted, each word cutting like glass, “is that my mom gave up everything for me. She worked herself to exhaustion, went without even the little coziness in life so that I could have enough. And you?” Her eyes blazed. “You stayed in your big house and pretended we didn’t exist.”
A flush of crimson spread across Margaret’s cheeks. “I was grieving!”
“So was she!” Laurel’s voice erupted, trembling with a lifetime of suppressed pain. “But she never abandoned me. You don’t get to waltz back now and ask for anything. You’re NOT my grandmother. You’re just someone who showed up with hollow gestures, hoping we’d forget everything and embrace you.”
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An older lady gaping in shock | Source: Midjourney
Margaret’s mouth worked soundlessly, her carefully constructed facade crumbling.
Laurel rose, her stance resolute despite the tears glimmering in her eyes. “You need to leave. Now.”
A desperate plea flickered in Margaret’s gaze as she looked first at me, then back at Laurel. “You’ll regret this.”
Laurel didn’t waver. “No. I won’t. Goodbye, Margaret.”
The door closed with a sharp, piercing click as Margaret stormed out.
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A furious young lady with her arms crossed | Source: Midjourney
Silence filled the room like a held breath. Then Laurel turned, pulling me into a fierce embrace.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” she whispered.
“You didn’t have to defend me,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.
“Yes,” she replied, her tone brooking no argument, “I did. You’re my family. You’re the one who’s always been there.”
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An emotional woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
Eden’s voice sliced through the tension, light and irreverent. “Well, that was quite the performance. Who’s ready for cake?”
We laughed. For the first time in 20 years, I felt a profound sense of peace fill my heart. Margaret and her empty apologies meant nothing. Laurel and I had built something genuine, something unbreakable.
As I watched my daughter slice the cake, surrounded by love and laughter, I couldn’t help but reflect on how far we’d come. We weren’t just surviving… we were truly living.

A cheerful woman holding her 20th birthday cake | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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