My Ex-husband Broke Into My House at Night While My Daughter and I Were Sleeping – Suddenly, I Heard Her Scream

My ex-husband’s selfishness ruined our family, but I thought we had left the worst behind after the divorce. Then, one night, I woke up to my daughter’s scream, and what I discovered had me sending her away and installing security cameras only for my ex to show his worst side.

A few weeks ago, my divorce from Liam was finalized, and as I prepared to go to sleep one night, I remembered all he put me through. Honestly, the entire process had felt like trying to pull a thorn out of my side.

Woman in her late 30s in a bedroom at night with thoughtful look | Source: Midjourney

Woman in her late 30s in a bedroom at night with thoughtful look | Source: Midjourney

Liam gave me only years of irritation and pain. I’m not saying marriage should be easy, but life with him wasn’t just hard; it was unbearable.

He had this incredible ability to make everything about himself. We were always second place to his gadgets, schemes, and so-called “investments.”

Let me give you an example. About two years ago, when our daughter, Danielle, was 10, she begged me for ballet lessons. I was ready to make it work by cutting some costs here and there to make her happy. Any parent with a child in ballet can tell you that lessons and clothes are expensive.

Children in ballet class | Source: Pexels

Children in ballet class | Source: Pexels

But just as I had arranged everything and was about to call the academy, Liam came home grinning like he’d won the lottery. He said he’d used all of our savings to invest in a cryptocurrency his buddy said would soon blow up.

He swore we were going to be rich. That didn’t happen. The entire thing was a scam in the end, and I had to tell my daughter was ballet wasn’t possible for us at the moment.

As you can imagine, my husband just shrugged it off, saying, “These things happen all the time. The next venture will be our golden ticket!”

Man in his early 40s shrugging and smiling in the living room | Source: Midjourney

Man in his early 40s shrugging and smiling in the living room | Source: Midjourney

But I was tired of going broke with insane “investments” or having someone buy gadgets to their heart’s desire without thinking about what was best for the family.

Months after the scam fiasco, I found Liam watching videos about trading and finally sat down with him for a serious talk.

“Liam, you can’t keep doing this,” I urged. “You have to think about our family’s future. We might have an emergency. We have to build our finances properly. Not only that, but we also have to think about Danielle’s college.”

Woman in her late 30s sitting on couch with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney

Woman in her late 30s sitting on couch with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney

He wrinkled his nose and waved his hand dismissively. “I AM thinking about the future. We’re going to be rich thanks to one of these things. You just don’t believe in me.”

“It’s true,” I nodded. “I don’t believe in you. This needs to stop or…”

“OR?” he challenged.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Well, then. Since you don’t trust me, let’s get a divorce,” Liam said, crossing his arms and leaning on the sofa.

Man in his early 40s sitting back on a couch with pursed lips and an unapologetic expression | Source: Midjourney

Man in his early 40s sitting back on a couch with pursed lips and an unapologetic expression | Source: Midjourney

“Liam, please,” I sighed. “Be serious.”

“I AM serious,” he spat.

My mouth closed, and I stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of remorse or understanding. But there was nothing. He wasn’t going to change. He wasn’t going to fight for our family. So, why should I fight for him?

“Fine,” I replied, my resolve solidified.

Unfortunately, divorce takes longer than you can imagine. Years, actually.

Danielle was now 12, and the separation had been hard on her, particularly because Liam rarely called or visited since he moved out.

A 12 year old girl looking sad while sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

A 12 year old girl looking sad while sitting in bed | Source: Midjourney

It was a small comfort that my daughter and I got to stay in the same house as it had belonged to my late grandfather. He’d died suddenly years ago, and my mother said he always wanted me to have it.

I should’ve felt light after my divorce was finalized. But as I drifted off to sleep that night, I considered how my heart still hurt when I thought of Liam. I wished he had been the man he’d promised to be. But most of all, I wished he wanted to be a good father.

Danielle’s shrill scream ripped me from sleep hours later. My heart pounded as I bolted upright, every nerve screaming in alarm.

Woman in her late 30s bolting awake from bed looking scared | Source: Midjourney

Woman in her late 30s bolting awake from bed looking scared | Source: Midjourney

“Mommy!” she shouted again, her voice high-pitched and terrified. I ran down the hall to her room faster than I thought possible.

I saw a shadowy figure rushing toward me when I got to her door. Before I could react, he shoved past me, slamming me into the frame. The impact sent a sharp pain through my shoulder, but I was more worried about Danielle.

I stumbled further into her room, flipping on the light.

She was sitting up in bed, trembling. “It was a man,” she stammered, her eyes wide. “He had a crowbar. I think… I think it was Daddy.”

A 12-year-old girl sitting on her bed, late at night, looking confused and scared | Source: Midjourney

A 12-year-old girl sitting on her bed, late at night, looking confused and scared | Source: Midjourney

I froze. “You’re sure?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm for her sake.

She nodded quickly. “I saw his face, Mom. It was him. But his eyes… they were scary.”

My stomach dropped. The thought of Liam breaking into our house and frightening our daughter like that made my blood boil. But I couldn’t focus on my anger just yet.

“Are you hurt?”

Woman in her late 30s looking scared and sweaty in a child's bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Woman in her late 30s looking scared and sweaty in a child’s bedroom | Source: Midjourney

“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Tears welled in her eyes. “But what’s going on? Why did he do that?”

I wrapped her in my arms, holding her tightly, desperately trying to shield her from the terror that clawed at my own throat. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe now. I’m here.” But was she really safe? Was I?

My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do next.

When the sun rose, we discovered Danielle’s gold jewelry had disappeared. It was just a pair of earrings and a small necklace her godparents had given her when she was born, but it still hurt to think Liam had taken them.

A jewelry box overflowing with scattered pieces | Source: Pexels

A jewelry box overflowing with scattered pieces | Source: Pexels

The thought of Danielle enduring another such night filled me with dread. With a heavy heart, I called my mom, Helen, and asked if Danielle could stay with her for a while.

“Don’t worry, Gina,” Mom said over the phone. “She’ll be safe here. You focus on getting things sorted. I’ll pick her up soon.”

By that afternoon, Danielle was packed and getting into her grandmother’s car. I hated the vision of my daughter leaving her home, but it was for the best. I couldn’t risk Liam coming back while she was here.

A car driving away on a road | Source: Pexels

A car driving away on a road | Source: Pexels

He’d pushed me… ME!

The anger and fear threatened to overwhelm me, but I couldn’t dwell on it. I needed to make this house safe again. I called a security company and had a top-of-the-line alarm system installed. It consisted of motion detectors and cameras that send notifications straight to my phone.

A security camera in a home | Source: Pexels

A security camera in a home | Source: Pexels

Thankfully, I could afford all of it now that Liam no longer had access to my finances.

I spent the entire day following the installers around, making sure everything was perfect. When they left, I tested the system three times to make sure it worked.

For the first week, nothing happened. I threw myself into work and chores, anything to keep my mind busy. But the fear never really went away.

Woman in her late 30s cleaning the kitchen while looking worried | Source: Midjourney

Woman in her late 30s cleaning the kitchen while looking worried | Source: Midjourney

Danielle wouldn’t be coming home for at least a month. In hindsight, this had been a good decision because around ten days after she left for her grandma’s house, just after 2 a.m., my phone buzzed with an alert: “Motion detected – Front Door.”

I grabbed it and stared at the screen. The app showed movement inside the house and then in the garage. This meant the intruder came in and went through the kitchen to the laundry room, where we had a door leading to the garage.

I exited the security app and dialed 911, whispering to the dispatcher, “There’s someone in my house. Please send help.”

The dispatcher’s voice was calm and steady, but I barely heard it over the sound of my own heartbeat. “Stay on the line, ma’am. Officers are on their way.”

Police officer using the intercom in a patrol car | Source: Pexels

Police officer using the intercom in a patrol car | Source: Pexels

I should’ve stayed hidden, but I wanted to face him, so I crept down the stairs, my phone clutched tightly in one hand. The house was dark, but the light from the kitchen spilled faintly into the hallway.

I moved past the kitchen and walked into the laundry room. After a moment, I heard the sound of something being moved inside the garage.

Pushing the door open just enough to see inside, I spotted a figure in black trying to bring down the tool shelf on the wall. A crowbar glinted in his hand. What was he planning to do with that?

A man in black clothes and a mask inspecting the wall tool shelf of a garage | Source: Midjourney

A man in black clothes and a mask inspecting the wall tool shelf of a garage | Source: Midjourney

I went deeper inside and called out, “Liam?”

The figure froze and turned toward me. It was definitely my ex. His face was partially obscured by a black mask, but I knew those eyes and that stance.

Instead of bolting like last time, he started walking toward me, the crowbar raised like a weapon.

On instinct, I rushed to the other wall, where we kept a button that opened the garage door. The loud rumble distracted my ex, and soon, the space was flooded with light from the street.

A home garage door opening at night | Source: Midjourney

A home garage door opening at night | Source: Midjourney

At that exact moment, two police cars screeched into the driveway, their sirens piercing the night. Officers jumped out with their weapons drawn.

“Freeze!” one of them shouted.

Liam stopped in his tracks, dropping the crowbar with a loud clang. The cops moved in quickly, securing his hands behind his back. One of them pulled off his mask, and there he was, looking more pathetic than ever.

“What the hell were you thinking, Liam?” I asked, my voice shaking with anger.

He avoided my eyes. “Gina, it’s not what you think…”

Man in his early 40s looking down sadly while standing in a garage with police cars behind him | Source: Midjourney

Man in his early 40s looking down sadly while standing in a garage with police cars behind him | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, really?” I snapped. “Because it looks exactly like what I think. You broke into my house AGAIN! You already stole our daughter’s jewelry! What is wrong with you?”

“I’m so-sorry,” he stuttered as the officers hauled him roughly out to the driveway.

“Wait!” I demanded, focusing on my ex. “What were you looking for?”

He couldn’t meet my eyes as he confessed. “When I was packing, I saw a safe in the garage,” he mumbled. “I thought… maybe there was something valuable in there. I didn’t touch it back then…. But now, I just… needed a little something to get by.”

A wall safe in a garage at night | Source: Midjourney

A wall safe in a garage at night | Source: Midjourney

A safe? I turned and there, on the wall where my grandfather’s tool shelf had already been, was a safe. I had no idea it existed at all.

“You’re unbelievable, Liam,” I turned back to stare at my ex as they put him in the squad car. “Absolutely unbelievable. Of course, you’re out of money already. Pathetic.”

I shook my head and watched as the cops took him away, leaving me standing in the garage.

The next morning, I called a locksmith to open the safe. If Liam thought there was something valuable in there, I wanted to see it for myself.

A man in uniform holding toolboxes while walking up a driveway | Source: Midjourney

A man in uniform holding toolboxes while walking up a driveway | Source: Midjourney

When the locksmith cracked it open, I held my breath. There were no gold bars, no jewels, nothing flashy inside. Just a stack of neatly organized bank documents.

As I flipped through them, my jaw dropped. My grandfather had kept his entire fortune in several safety deposit boxes. And the access to all of them was registered to me.

My greedy ex had just handed me and my daughter the key to a fortune I never knew existed.

A hall of safety deposit boxes in a bank | Source: Pexels

A hall of safety deposit boxes in a bank | Source: Pexels

Weeks later, I found myself in a courtroom, facing Liam. I had to testify against him to help the prosecution.

My ex-husband looked smaller than I’d ever seen him, sitting there in his orange jumpsuit, and I didn’t feel an ounce of pity.

When the judge handed down his sentence for attempted theft, breaking and entering, and the possession of a weapon, I leaned forward, drawing his attention.

“Thank you, Liam,” I said, my voice steady. “Because of your greed, I found out I’m rich. And you? Well… I hope you like prison food.”

Woman in her late 30s smirking while sitting on a bench in a courtroom | Source: Midjourney

Woman in her late 30s smirking while sitting on a bench in a courtroom | Source: Midjourney

My Wife Excluded Me from Her Birthday Party – I Was Shocked to Find Out Why

I thought my wife, Jenna, and I shared everything, including our deepest secrets. But when she excluded me from her birthday party, I realized I’d been left out of more than just one celebration. What hurt the most was discovering why.

It wasn’t just the party that stung. It was what it revealed about my wife and our marriage.

I’d spent a year saving for her dream gift, only to find out that I wasn’t enough for her. Looking back, the signs had always been there. I guess I just never wanted to see them.

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

Jenna and I were introduced by our families eight years ago. They thought we’d be a great match, and they were right. At least in the beginning.

She was warm, outgoing, and had this infectious energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. I was quieter and more practical, but I found her enthusiasm refreshing. We went on a few dates, and soon enough, I was hooked.

Of course, she wasn’t perfect. No one is.

I noticed early on that she had a bit of a materialistic streak.

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney

She loved fancy dinners, designer handbags, and the kind of vacations that made Instagram feeds look like travel brochures.

At the time, I chalked it up to her appreciating the finer things in life. Besides, I wasn’t exactly living extravagantly, but I wasn’t struggling either.

I thought we could balance each other out.

We got married five years ago, and for a while, everything seemed great. I loved how Jenna lit up a room and could talk to anyone and make them feel like the most important person in the world.

A close-up shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney

I worked a steady job as a financial consultant, and while I wasn’t raking in millions, I took pride in providing a stable life for us.

But there were moments, small, nagging moments, that hinted things weren’t as perfect as they seemed.

I remember one time I gave her a custom photo album for our anniversary, filled with pictures of our favorite memories. She smiled and thanked me, but later, I overheard her on the phone with a friend, saying, “Yeah, it’s sweet, but I was kind of hoping for a spa weekend or something.”

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

It hurt, but I convinced myself it didn’t mean anything. Jenna had always been expressive, and I figured she was just venting.

Still, the little incidents piled up.

She’d casually mention how her friend’s husband surprised her with diamond earrings “just because” or how another friend’s partner whisked her away for a luxury retreat.

“Can you believe how lucky they are?” she’d say, with a wistful look I tried not to take personally.

But deep down, I started to feel like I was falling short.

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t have the kind of job that allowed for extravagant gifts or surprise getaways, but I made up for it with thoughtfulness. At least, I thought I did.

I’d spend hours planning little surprises for her, like cooking her favorite meals after a long day or leaving sweet notes in her work bag.

I hoped those gestures meant more than a price tag.

Then came the conversations that left me questioning myself.

A man standing in the dark | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in the dark | Source: Midjourney

Once, when her friends came over, I overheard them talking.

“So, what did Lucas spoil you with this time?” one of her friends asked.

I heard Jenna laugh sheepishly.

“Oh, you know Lucas,” she began. “He’s more about sentiment than splurging.”

Her tone wasn’t outright dismissive, but it wasn’t exactly proud either.

A woman sitting in the dark | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in the dark | Source: Midjourney

Looking back, I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve realized that Jenna’s world was one where appearances mattered. A world where being “just enough” was never going to cut it.

But I loved her, and I believed that love was enough to bridge the gap between our differences.

I was wrong.

So wrong.

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney

A few weeks ago, Jenna surprised me with an announcement that caught me off guard.

“I’m not celebrating my birthday this year,” she said over dinner. “I’m getting older, and honestly, what’s there to celebrate?”

I paused mid-bite and stared at her. Jenna loved birthdays. She’d always meticulously plan a theme, coordinate outfits, and ensure the guest list was perfect. The idea of her skipping the occasion altogether felt off.

“Are you sure?” I asked, keeping my tone light. “You’ve always loved celebrating.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

She shrugged. “I just don’t feel like it this year. Maybe next time.”

Her response didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t push. Everyone has their moments, and I figured turning 35 left her feeling reflective or even self-conscious.

Still, I wanted to do something special for her.

Jenna loved jewelry but rarely bought any for herself, always saying it was too indulgent. So, for the past year, I’d been quietly saving up for a pair of diamond earrings I knew she’d adore.

A pair of earrings | Source: Pexels

A pair of earrings | Source: Pexels

Honestly, saving up hadn’t been easy. I’d skipped lunches out, passed on new clothes, and even took on extra work during the holidays.

The earrings I’d bought were beautiful and I couldn’t wait to surprise her. I imagined giving them to her during a quiet dinner at home. I thought it would be perfect.

But everything changed a few days before her birthday.

I was at the grocery store picking up some last-minute essentials when I ran into Mark, one of Jenna’s coworkers.

Shopping carts at a supermarket | Source: Pexels

Shopping carts at a supermarket | Source: Pexels

We exchanged pleasantries and talked about the usual stuff until he casually mentioned something that made my heart drop.

“Okay, see ya at Jenna’s birthday party on Friday!” he said with a grin.

“Party?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yeah, her birthday party. You know about it, right?”

“Oh, yeah, the party!” I chuckled. “Same place as last time, right? I keep mixing things up.”

“No, it’s at that new restaurant,” Mark said. “Le Bijou, downtown. Friday at 7. All friends and family are coming!”

A man in a supermarket | Source: Pexels

A man in a supermarket | Source: Pexels

I forced a laugh, playing it off. “Oh, right, of course. Just slipped my mind for a second. Been swamped with work lately.”

Mark nodded. “Well, it should be fun. Jenna always throws a great party.”

I managed a smile and a quick goodbye before turning the cart down the next aisle.

Le Bijou was a new upscale restaurant downtown. It required booking weeks in advance and a price tag to match.

What bothered me the most was that my wife hadn’t mentioned a word about that party.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

For the next two days, I tried to rationalize what Mark had said. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe it was a surprise party, and Jenna didn’t want me to find out.

But deep down, I knew the truth. She’d excluded me on purpose.

Why wouldn’t she want me there? I thought. Was she embarrassed? Angry? Or had I done something to make her feel like I didn’t belong by her side?

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

The questions ate away at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask Jenna outright.

Instead, I decided to find out. I told myself I wasn’t going to cause a scene and that I just needed answers. I decided to go to the party to see why she didn’t want me there.

On the day of her birthday, she seemed quite calm.

“I’m just going out with some friends for dinner tonight,” she said over breakfast, sipping her coffee. “Nothing fancy, just a small gathering.”

A woman smiling at the breakfast table | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling at the breakfast table | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, really? I thought we’d have dinner at home together,” I said. “I was planning to bake your favorite cookies.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Lucas,” she smiled. “It’s just that Alex suggested we should go out for dinner, and I didn’t want to say no. We’ll have dinner together tomorrow, okay? I promise.”

“Alright,” I said, trying to hide the disappointment.

She didn’t mention Le Bijou or anything remotely like the extravagant affair Mark had described. A quiet dinner with friends was nothing to raise suspicion over. At least not until I arrived at the restaurant.

A table in a restaurant | Source: Pexels

A table in a restaurant | Source: Pexels

When I walked into Le Bijou, it was as if I’d stepped into a different world. The room glittered with wealth. Sparkling gowns, tailored suits, and the unmistakable hum of privilege.

In the center of it all was Jenna. Her smile was as dazzling as the chandelier above her, but it faded the moment she saw me.

I could see panic written all over her face as she excused herself and walked toward me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a low, hurried whisper.

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“I came to celebrate your birthday,” I replied. “But it looks like you’re having a ball with your friends. You said you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday this year, but…”

Her face flushed as she looked around. “Lucas, it’s not like that. This is just a casual dinner. I—”

“Mark called it a birthday party when I met him a few days ago,” I said. “This doesn’t look like a casual dinner.”

Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she glanced back at the table where her friends were watching us with open curiosity.

A woman looking away while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking away while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney

“Look,” she said, lowering her voice even further. “I excluded you from the party because… well, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“It’s just that all my friends’ husbands always get them these extravagant gifts, and you… well, you don’t. I didn’t want them to compare. I didn’t want them to know that I never get any expensive gifts.”

I stared at her with wide eyes.

“So, you’re embarrassed of me?” I asked. “You’re embarrassed your husband doesn’t earn enough to spoil you with presents?”

Her silence was answer enough.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the small box from my pocket and handed it to her.

“Open it,” I said.

A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a gift box | Source: Pexels

Her eyes widened slightly as she unwrapped it, revealing the diamond earrings inside. For a moment, I saw the Jenna I fell in love with. The one who lit up over little surprises and thoughtful gestures.

“Oh my God, Lucas,” she gasped, holding the earrings up for her friends to admire. “These are beautiful!”

She called her friends over, basking in their admiration as if the entire evening had suddenly transformed into a celebration of us.

“Lucas, you have to stay,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Come on, have a drink, let me get you some food.”

A woman looking back | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking back | Source: Midjourney

But I couldn’t. Something inside me had cracked, and no amount of praise or attention from her friends could fix it.

“I can’t stay,” I said. “The second part of your gift is waiting for you at home.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “What is it? Tell me!”

“You’ll see,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before walking away. I didn’t look back.

When Jenna returned home later that night, she found the house dark and eerily quiet.

A woman in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hallway | Source: Midjourney

The only light came from the kitchen, where a single envelope sat on the table. I’d left a letter for her.

Dear Jenna,

I spent a year saving for those earrings because I wanted you to feel loved, cherished, and appreciated. You always said you loved jewelry but never treated yourself, so I wanted to give you something special. Something to show you how much you mean to me.

A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney

But tonight, I realized that no matter how much I give, it will never be enough. Hearing you say you were embarrassed of me, of us, broke something inside me. I’ve always believed love was about more than material things, but you’ve made it clear that appearances and comparisons matter more.

So, here’s the second part of your gift: FREEDOM. For both of us.

A close-up shot of a handwritten note | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a handwritten note | Source: Pexels

I’m filing for divorce. I deserve someone who values me for who I am, not for what I can buy. And you deserve someone who can give you the lifestyle you clearly want.

Please don’t contact me. This is goodbye.

—Lucas

Over the next few days, Jenna called me repeatedly, leaving tearful messages begging for forgiveness. She said she’d made a mistake, that she didn’t mean what she said, and that she wanted to fix things.

But I was done. I sent her one final text.

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

Don’t contact me again. It’s over.

Then I blocked her number and moved forward with the divorce.

Now, months later, I feel lighter, as if a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted. Losing Jenna was painful, but knowing I’ll never have to endure her constant comparisons or unspoken disappointment again?

That’s a relief I can’t put into words.

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: I never imagined that hiding behind our bedroom curtain to surprise my husband on his birthday would lead to me filming him somewhere unexpected just hours later. The romantic scavenger hunt I’d planned turned into evidence that we needed a divorce.

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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