I was sick. I found a doctor and told
him I was feeling very depressed and that my period was late. He announced
that I was pregnant. I put my money in the bank and started writing.
I wrote short stories and sold them to the local paper. They
were willing to help me. I lied about my situation and told them my
husband committed suicide in the markets. My baby died. I wrote to
Esteban and told him. The baby's father was a friend of his, a
broker, who was married and who had forced me. I wanted him dead! Esteban
was sympathetic and wrote back that he would get his comeuppance. I suffered
alone in my home, mourning the loss of my Rebecca. I died a cold, lonely
spinster.
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Heritage Outline
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