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mirror. My wig was crooked. My skin was pale as paper.
After Chemotherapy, I Caught My Husband With My Sister—Instead of Causing a Scene, I Invited Them to Dinner and Changed Their Lives Forever
“They’ll say you imagined it,” I whispered to myself. “They’ll say the chemo made you paranoid.”
I could already hear my mother’s voice: “Harold has been so devoted, dear. You’re exhausted. Let’s not do anything rash.”
That was when the idea came to me.
