My stepson begged me, “Don’t marry my dad.” The reason made me faint at the altar.

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After the visit, we returned home. The feeling that something was wrong stayed with me well into the night. When everyone was asleep, I decided to act like a detective. Tim’s room would be the first step. If I could get a glimpse of what was on his mind, maybe I could find out what was tormenting him so much. Although the idea brought me a weight of guilt, I felt I couldn’t stand by. Something had to be done, even if it meant invading his space.

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