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Later, I learned that Ethan ran downstairs to get Kelsey, our neighbor and my closest friend. She came running up, took one look at me, and called 911.
According to Kelsey, my lifesaver, when the paramedics arrived, the boys were huddled in the hallway, clinging to her. I was drifting in and out of consciousness by then. I remember someone asking about medications, someone else strapping something around my arm, and Kelsey’s voice saying, “Please take care of her.”
Tyler came home around 6 p.m., expecting a warm dinner, order, routine, and folded laundry. Instead, there was chaos. The lights were off, toys were scattered across the living room, there was no smell of food, and the dishwasher was full.
He found my purse sitting on the counter and the fridge still half-open. But the thing that shook him was the note on the floor. It had fallen from the kitchen table.
It only had four words, scrawled in my handwriting before I was taken to the ER.
“I want a divorce.”
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