My Insomniac Boss Fell Asleep On My Shoulder — Now I’m Trapped In His Nightmare
Part 2
The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind me.
I pressed my back against the freezing corridor wall.
My chest ached so deeply I could barely draw breath.
He had sent me away.
Seven days passed without a single glimpse of him.
The palace grew colder with every passing hour.
My body betrayed me in his absence.
My inner wolf, quiet my entire life, paced relentlessly beneath my skin.
Migraines blinded me by noon.
A crushing heaviness settled into my bones.
Brenda watched me grind valerian root with trembling hands.
She recognized the symptoms of a severed bond immediately.
She warned me that if the curse killed him, the bond would drag me down too.
I refused to listen.
I was just the nobody herbalist, not a destined mate for a king.
By the seventh day, I could barely stand upright.
Brian sent for me again to treat his swollen knee.
I dragged myself toward the council chambers.
The door was open.
I heard Dan’s measured voice, then another sound that made my heart lurch.
Craig was sitting at the head of the long table.
I stepped inside, my hands gripping the tincture bottle like a lifeline.
I passed right beside him.
He kept his gaze locked on the parchment in front of him.
His jaw tightened so hard a muscle jumped beneath his skin.
He refused to look at me.
The ache in my chest exploded into agony.
My vision went white at the edges.
I heard the glass bottle shatter against the stone floor.
I heard my name ripped from his throat, sharp and utterly devastated.
Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.
I woke to the scent of dried lavender and clean linen.
Craig sat beside the infirmary cot with his head buried in his hands.
He looked up, relief flooding his exhausted face.
He finally confessed the truth about the curse.
A witch named Nancy had poisoned him after the war.
Every night, the ghosts of the fallen dragged him into the hollow to drown in guilt.
He was dying to pay a debt he believed he owed.
He pulled his hand from mine and stood up.
He swore he would fight it alone rather than drag me down with him.
He turned his back and walked out of the infirmary.
I stared at the empty doorway, my heart fracturing.
If staying away was going to kill us both, how could I convince him to let me back into his curse?
Part 3
Megan knew the answer even before Craig’s heavy footsteps faded entirely down the stone corridor of the infirmary.
She could not convince him with words.
A king who had spent a grueling year drowning in his own cursed guilt would never listen to basic logic.
He genuinely believed he deserved to die for his perceived failures.
He also believed that his death was the only way to keep her completely safe from the curse’s reach.
Megan sat on the edge of the narrow cot and gripped the thin woolen blanket until her knuckles turned a stark, bloodless white.
Her heart hammered against her ribs in a frantic, irregular rhythm.
Brenda watched her from the shadowy corner of the infirmary room.
The head healer did not offer any empty platitudes or useless advice.
She simply turned back to her heavy stone mortar and pestle, grinding dried herbs with a rhythmic, steady scrape.
The sharp scent of crushed eucalyptus and dried lavender filled the quiet room.
Megan realized that if she wanted to save the man she was irrevocably bound to, she would have to force his hand.
She had to go to his chambers.
The castle was dead quiet when she finally slipped out of the infirmary that night.
Heavy shadows clung to the ancient stone walls, thick and almost physical in their weight.
Her bare feet made absolutely no sound against the freezing marble floor.
Every single step she took toward the upper levels sent a sharp spike of adrenaline straight through her veins.
Her inner wolf, agitated and starving for the completion of the bond, practically purred as she drew closer to the king’s quarters.
The crushing, suffocating ache in her chest eased slightly with every yard she gained.
The winding staircases seemed endless, twisting higher into the most heavily guarded section of the royal fortress.
Flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows that looked like grasping hands on the tapestries.
Two imposing guards stood on either side of the massive, iron-bound oak doors leading to Craig’s private rooms.
They recognized her instantly, their postures shifting in the dim light.
One of them shifted his considerable weight, his gauntleted hand resting casually on the heavy pommel of his sword.
Megan did not slow her pace.
She kept her chin high and her gaze fixed firmly on the heavy iron latch of the door.
The guards exchanged a brief, highly uncertain look, clearly torn between their orders and the obvious bond forming between the king and the herbalist.
Neither of them moved a single muscle to stop her as she reached for the cold iron handle.
The heavy door swung open with a loud, protesting groan that echoed down the empty corridor.
The massive bedchamber was steeped in deep, heavy shadows.
The fire in the massive stone hearth had burned down to glowing red embers, casting only a faint, trembling amber light across the uneven stone floor.
Craig stood by the far window, his broad shoulders tense and raised.
He was silhouetted sharply against the pale moonlight, staring out over the sleeping, peaceful kingdom he had bled to protect.
He did not turn around when the heavy door clicked shut behind her.
His shoulders went completely, rigidly stiff at the soft sound.
Megan took a hesitant step forward into the room.
The air in the chamber was incredibly thick with his unique scent, a rich blend of crushed cedar and the sharp tang of an impending storm.
Craig’s large hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides.
He commanded her to leave without even bothering to look at her.
His voice was incredibly rough, ragged, and sounded exactly like it had been dragged over broken glass.
Megan refused to move a single inch backward.
She told him in a clear, unwavering voice that she was not going anywhere.
He finally turned his head to face her.
His dark gray eyes were wide, swirling with a volatile mixture of disbelief and barely contained, feral desperation.
He looked exactly like a man starving to death who had just been offered a massive, impossible feast.
He took a sudden half-step toward her before violently catching himself.
He warned her again that it simply wasn’t safe for her to be there.
He insisted that her being in his chambers would only guarantee her eventual destruction.
Megan closed the physical distance between them with quick, deliberate steps.
She stopped just inches from his broad, heaving chest.
She could feel the immense heat radiating off his large body in the chilly room.
She looked up and asked him how he could possibly know she would be fine without him.
He stared down at her, his strong jaw locked so tight a muscle ticked rapidly beneath his skin.
His chest heaved violently with every single breath he took.
He claimed that keeping his distance was the absolute only way to protect her from his fate.
Megan reached up toward his face with agonizing slowness.
She gave him every possible opportunity to pull away or bat her hand aside.
He didn’t move a single muscle to stop her.
Her soft palm settled gently against his rough, stubble-covered cheek.
His gray eyes fluttered shut instantly.
A ragged, devastated sigh tore its way forcefully from his throat.
He leaned heavily into her touch like a dying man seeking his final absolution.
Megan traced the incredibly sharp line of his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb.
She told him quietly that they already shared a powerful, undeniable bond.
Craig let out a harsh, bitter, completely humorless laugh that held no joy whatsoever.
His large, calloused hand came up to completely cover hers, pressing her palm even more firmly against his warm skin.
He confessed in a broken whisper that he already knew about the bond.
He admitted that her floral scent had been haunting him mercilessly for an entire week.
He smelled her constantly in the massive council chambers, in the empty corridors, and particularly on his cold, empty sheets.
He told her that waking up reaching for her and finding nothing felt exactly like experiencing a physical death.
His deep voice broke sharply on the final, agonizing word.
Megan didn’t let him finish formulating his flawed argument.
She surged up high onto her toes and pressed her mouth forcefully to his.
The kiss was utterly explosive.
Craig groaned, a deep, guttural, animalistic sound that vibrated heavily against her lips.
His large hands came up quickly to cradle her face, his rough thumbs tracking blindly along her jawline.
He kissed her back with a desperate, crushing, all-consuming hunger.
He walked her backward across the room until her spine hit the solid stone wall with a soft, breathless thud.
He pulled back for just a fraction of a second, his massive chest heaving against hers.
He whispered frantically against her mouth that they really shouldn’t do this.
Megan asked him point-blank if he actually wanted her to leave the room.
Craig let out another dark, self-deprecating laugh.
He pressed his sweaty forehead firmly against hers.
He asked if she couldn’t feel exactly how much he desperately wanted her to stay.
He swore he just wanted her to be completely safe from the horrors of his mind.
Megan argued fiercely that safety meant absolutely nothing if they were forced to be apart.
She reminded him that the pain of the severed bond had literally caused her to collapse unconscious in the council room.
She told him that the vast physical distance was actively hurting her more than his curse ever could.
Craig squeezed his eyes shut tightly like her words were a series of physical blows.
He begged her quietly not to say things like that.
She repeated it anyway, louder and with more conviction.
He opened his eyes suddenly.
The intense conflict raging in his stormy gray gaze finally settled into a terrifying, possessive certainty.
He scooped her up completely into his strong arms like she weighed absolutely nothing at all.
Megan wrapped her legs securely around his narrow waist on pure, unadulterated instinct.
He carried her quickly across the dark room without ever once breaking their desperate kiss.
He laid her down gently on the absolute center of the massive, luxurious mattress.
He followed her down immediately, his heavy weight settling over her in a deeply welcome, profoundly grounding pressure.
Megan’s trembling hands fumbled blindly with the small buttons of his linen shirt.
She desperately needed to feel his bare skin directly against hers.
Craig helped her impatiently, tearing the expensive fabric aside in his absolute haste.
His broad shoulders were deeply scarred, heavily muscled, and beautifully sculpted by years of grueling warfare.
He ducked his head low, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and straight down her sensitive throat.
Megan arched wildly into his burning touch, her fingers digging fiercely into the hard, bunched muscles of his broad back.
The rest of the entire world simply ceased to exist.
There was only the scorching heat of his large hands, the intoxicating taste of his skin, and the overwhelming, magnetic pull of the mating bond.
Every single touch he ghosted over her skin felt electric and entirely new.
Every breathless, stuttering sigh felt like a profound, life-altering revelation.
Craig worshipped her body with a quiet, intense reverence that made her heart physically ache in her chest.
He took his absolute time, learning the exact shape of her, mapping her body like it was the only precious territory he cared to ever rule.
When he finally joined them completely together, a brilliant, blinding golden warmth exploded spectacularly in Megan’s chest.
She cried out his name into the dark, empty room.
Craig captured her loud gasp perfectly with his warm mouth.
The intense pleasure built steadily within her, a massive rising tide that completely swept away all her lingering, nagging fears.
She clung desperately to his broad shoulders as the incredible sensation finally crested.
Release crashed violently over her in heavy, breathless, crashing waves.
Craig let out a loud, guttural shout of absolute triumph.
He buried his face deeply in the crook of her neck.
His sharp teeth grazed lightly over her beating pulse point.
He bit down hard, claiming her permanently in the oldest, most primal way their shifter kind knew.
The mating mark sent a massive shockwave of pure, unfiltered connection straight through her very soul.
The severed bond snapped perfectly and permanently into place.
It felt exactly like finally coming home after a lifetime of wandering.
Megan didn’t hesitate for a single second.
She bit him back fiercely, her own teeth sinking deeply into the hard juncture of his neck and shoulder.
Craig groaned loudly, his entire large body shuddering violently against hers in response.
The profound connection flared even brighter, solidifying instantly into an entirely unbreakable, permanent tether.
They lay quietly tangled in the messy sheets for a very long time.
The dying fire had gone out completely, leaving the massive room in a cool, peaceful darkness.
Craig was sprawled comfortably on his back, his heavy arm wrapped incredibly securely around her bare waist.
He pulled her entirely flush against his warm side.
Megan rested her head comfortably on his broad chest, listening carefully to the steady, powerful, thumping rhythm of his heart.
She felt the exact, precise moment his tense body finally surrendered completely to pure exhaustion.
His breathing deepened significantly into a slow, perfectly even cadence.
The rigid, permanent tension in his heavy muscles completely melted away into the mattress.
Megan smiled softly into the total darkness of the room.
She had actually done it.
She had managed to break through his massive walls and anchor him safely to the waking world.
She closed her eyes happily, letting the heavy, totally sated warmth drag her straight down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The profound peace lasted for exactly one hour.
Megan opened her eyes with a sudden, violent start.
She was absolutely not in the king’s warm, familiar bedchamber.
The air surrounding her was instantly freezing, biting viciously at her bare arms and legs.
Thick, suffocating, completely unnatural gray fog pressed in heavily from every conceivable direction.
The horrible smell of damp, rotting stone and ancient, wet ash completely clogged her lungs with every breath.
She pushed herself up frantically from the incredibly soft, entirely unnatural ground.
Pure panic spiked sharp, hot, and terrifying in her tight chest.
This was the cursed hollow.
The witch’s curse had absolutely not been broken by their mating.
It had simply waited patiently in the dark for them to fall asleep.
Megan scrambled clumsily to her feet.
Her bare toes dug deeply into the spongy, cold earth.
The silence here was absolutely absolute, a heavy, oppressive void that made her ears ring painfully.
She called out Craig’s name as loudly as she could.
The thick fog swallowed the desperate sound instantly, returning nothing but total silence.
She spun around in a slow, frantic circle, desperately searching the impenetrable gloom.
The newly forged mating bond hummed loudly in her chest, acting like a bright golden thread in the oppressive dark.
She followed the intense physical pull.
She walked blindly for what felt like several miles, though time meant absolutely nothing in this horrific place.
The tall, skeletal trees loomed like silent, judging sentinels in the swirling mist.
Their horribly twisted branches clawed upward at the white, entirely featureless sky.
She finally found him kneeling in a small, desolate clearing.
Craig was firmly on his knees in the dirt.
His head was bowed in defeat, his large hands resting limply and uselessly on his thighs.
All the incredibly powerful, commanding presence he carried so easily in the waking world was completely gone.
He looked utterly, entirely broken.
Megan rushed forward blindly and dropped heavily to the cold ground right beside him.
She grabbed his strong arm and shook him gently but firmly.
She begged him repeatedly to look at her face.
Craig did not turn his head even a fraction of an inch.
His completely empty, devastated gaze remained locked entirely on the dark tree line.
Megan slowly followed his intense stare.
Her breath hitched painfully in her throat.
Dark, shadowy figures were moving slowly in the fog.
They emerged deliberately, silent, imposing, and completely terrifying.
Soldiers dressed in shredded, horribly blood-soaked uniforms stepped out into the clearing.
Civilians suffering with horrific, gaping, unhealed wounds followed closely behind the soldiers.
Their pale eyes were entirely vacant, reflecting absolutely nothing but endless, bottomless sorrow.
They formed a loose, inescapable circle entirely around Craig.
Megan counted dozens of them, then quickly realized there were hundreds.
They were the massive, tragic casualties of the brutal mountain war.
The dead had finally come to collect their nightly, agonizing due.
They began to whisper all at once.
The terrible sound started as a very low murmur, exactly like cold wind moving through dead, dry leaves.
It grew significantly louder, becoming a massive chorus of accusation that drilled directly into Megan’s skull.
They demanded angrily to know exactly why they had been forced to die.
They asked him repeatedly why he had failed to save them.
They screamed their unending agony directly into the silent hollow.
Craig simply knelt there in the dirt and completely accepted it.
He didn’t try to cover his ears to block the sound.
He didn’t turn away from their horrific, ruined faces.
He just watched them all with a look of profound, entirely agonizing guilt.
Megan pulled desperately at his cold hand.
She told him firmly that they needed to leave this place immediately.
Craig shook his head very slowly.
He whispered brokenly that the dead would never, ever leave him alone.
Through the newly formed, wide-open bond, Megan felt the total, crushing weight of his profound sorrow.
It was a massive physical force, heavy enough to drive her straight into the ground.
She gasped loudly, clutching hard at her own chest.
He was literally drowning in his own immense guilt.
The large crowd of terrifying ghosts parted slightly.
A single, small figure stepped forward, moving much closer to Craig than the rest of the horde.
It was a very young woman.
She wore a simple, homespun dress that was stained entirely dark red at the center of the chest.
She held a piece of highly ragged, dirty white cloth loosely in her blood-soaked hands.
Craig let out a choked, incredibly devastated sound.
He whispered her name like a prayer.
Heather.
Megan looked back and forth between the bloody ghost and the broken king.
She asked him quietly exactly who the dead girl was.
The mating bond flared incredibly hot and bright, suddenly flooding Megan’s entire mind with someone else’s vivid memory.
She suddenly saw a massive battlefield completely choked with thick, black smoke.
The deafening sounds of clashing steel and screaming, dying wolves completely overwhelmed her senses.
She saw Tyler, the massive rogue alpha, tearing violently through the royal defensive lines with unmatched, terrifying savagery.
Then she saw the very young woman, Heather, sprinting desperately across the blood-soaked, churned mud.
Heather was holding the dirty white cloth high above her head for everyone to see.
She was screaming frantically for a total truce.
She was desperately trying to surrender on behalf of her remaining, terrified people.
A stray arrow whistled sharply through the chaotic air.
Heather fell instantly.
The white cloth dropped limply into the deep mud.
The horrific memory shifted abruptly to Craig holding her entirely lifeless body.
His large hands were completely stained with her crimson blood.
He was roaring frantically for his healers, but it was already far too late.
The visceral memory faded suddenly, dumping Megan roughly back into the freezing, terrible hollow.
Craig stared blankly at the ghost.
He whispered a pathetic apology that sounded exactly like it had been ripped violently from his soul.
He told her he definitely should have seen her in time to stop it.
Heather slowly tilted her head.
Her voice was incredibly soft, gentle, and utterly, entirely damning.
She told him plainly that he could have easily stopped the senseless slaughter.
She told him that a much better king would have managed to save them all.
She pointed a small, highly bloody finger directly at his chest.
She declared loudly that her spilled blood was permanently, entirely on his hands.
Megan scrambled forward rapidly, placing her own body solidly between Craig and the accusing ghost.
She shouted loudly that it absolutely wasn’t his fault.
She argued fiercely that Tyler had stubbornly refused every single offer of peace.
She stated plainly that Craig had only gone to war to successfully protect his own innocent people.
The loud words tasted entirely hollow in the highly oppressive, dead air.
She looked back quickly at Craig.
He wasn’t even looking at her.
He was staring right through her body, looking straight at the bloody ghost.
Megan suddenly realized the entirely horrifying truth of the curse.
The ghost absolutely wasn’t speaking her own original thoughts.
The dark curse was actively using Craig’s own massive guilt completely against him.
Nancy, the evil witch, had cleverly created a mental prison built entirely from his own deepest, darkest regrets.
The hollow simply gave his massive self-hatred a recognizable face and a cruel voice.
Every single night, it actively fed him the exact poison he already believed he fully deserved to swallow.
Megan gripped his broad shoulders fiercely.
She shook him as hard as she possibly could.
She yelled directly into his face that he was actively agreeing with the dark curse.
She told him that he genuinely believed he fully deserved this horrific torture.
Craig looked up at her slowly, his gray eyes shining brightly with unshed, agonizing tears.
He whispered brokenly that she had been actively carrying a white flag of surrender.
He stated clearly that he had completely failed to stop the senseless killing when he finally had the chance.
His deep voice cracked painfully on the final, tragic word.
Megan felt warm tears tracking quickly down her own freezing, cold cheeks.
She told him fiercely that he was ultimately only one single man.
She insisted loudly that he could not possibly control the total chaos of an entire, massive battlefield.
She reminded him that war was an incredibly ugly, totally uncontrollable beast.
Craig dropped his heavy head right back into his large hands.
He argued miserably that a true king was always supposed to be much better than a regular man.
Megan dropped heavily to her bare knees right in front of him.
She grabbed his thick wrists and pulled his hands forcefully away from his face.
She forced him to look directly into her eyes.
She told him the truth about her own parents.
She explained exactly how they had cruelly abandoned her on the cold castle steps as an infant.
She confessed that she had spent her entire, lonely life desperately trying to be useful just to justify her own existence.
She told him she used to genuinely believe she fully deserved to be thrown away like trash.
Craig’s devastated expression shifted slightly, a tiny flicker of fierce protective anger finally cutting through the massive guilt.
He told her strongly that she never, ever deserved that kind of treatment.
Megan nodded firmly in total agreement.
She pointed out sharply that if she didn’t deserve her own pain, then he absolutely didn’t deserve his.
She swept her hand wildly toward the massive circle of watching, silent ghosts.
She told him clearly that all of these poor people were entirely trapped here simply because he actively refused to let them go.
Craig stared silently at the massive sea of dead, ruined faces.
Megan squeezed his large hands incredibly tightly.
She told him fiercely that he absolutely had the right to finally heal.
She whispered that he was fully allowed to put the massive burden down.
The terrible silence stretched out, incredibly thin and highly fragile like spun glass.
Craig looked slowly back at Heather’s silent ghost.
The young, bloody woman met his intense gaze perfectly.
He took a very long, highly shuddering breath.
He told the ghost clearly that he was so very sorry he couldn’t manage to save her.
He apologized deeply for all of it.
He stated, his voice suddenly gaining immense strength, that he absolutely could not carry them anymore.
The thick fog shuddered violently.
A very warm, pleasant wind suddenly swept rapidly through the dark hollow, smelling strongly of pine and bright morning sun.
Heather’s silent ghost offered a very small, entirely sad smile.
She slowly closed her pale eyes.
Her small form dissolved completely into the warm wind, scattering rapidly like dry dust.
One by one, the injured soldiers and ruined civilians turned away.
They faded entirely into the rapidly thinning mist.
The dark, freezing water of the massive lake smoothed out into totally clear, beautiful glass.
The skeletal, dead trees bloomed instantly with sudden, brilliant, vibrant green leaves.
The terrible hollow didn’t just collapse entirely.
It completely, beautifully healed.
Craig slumped heavily forward into the dirt.
Megan caught him easily, wrapping her arms incredibly securely around his thick neck.
An entire year of heavily locked-away, agonizing grief finally broke wide open.
He buried his face deeply in her shoulder and openly wept.
Megan held him incredibly tight, whispering softly that she had him, over and over again.
She opened her eyes slowly to pale, entirely natural morning light.
They were fully back in the large royal bedchamber.
The massive fire had burned all the way down to fine ash.
Craig was already awake right beside her.
His gray eyes were heavily rimmed with red, but the highly oppressive, dark shadows beneath them were entirely gone.
He looked significantly lighter, as if a mountain had been removed from his shoulders.
He reached out slowly and gently wiped a stray tear from Megan’s warm cheek.
He whispered a very quiet, incredibly heartfelt thank you.
Megan smiled brightly, leaning completely into his gentle touch.
The mating bond hummed very brightly between them, completely and entirely free of the dark curse’s terrible shadow.
The complete healing process was absolutely not instantaneous.
Craig still woke up suddenly with terrible nightmares from time to time.
Profound grief did not simply vanish overnight entirely because he had bravely chosen to finally release it.
But whenever he woke up in a sudden panic, Megan was always there.
She held his large hand tightly and listened patiently while he finally talked openly about the terrible war.
She reminded him constantly that he was fully allowed to remember the tragic fallen without actually dying right alongside them.
Slowly, the terrible bad nights became significantly less frequent.
He slowly began to sleep very deeply and highly peacefully right by her side.
The stuffy royal court was highly scandalized by the permanent, entirely unconventional arrangement.
The haughty nobles constantly whispered behind their gloved hands whenever Megan walked proudly through the ancient corridors.
A random, nobody foundling herbalist was absolutely not the highly polished, politically advantageous mate they had always expected for their powerful Alpha King.
The rude murmurs finally reached an absolute fever pitch on their official wedding day.
Megan stood nervously before the entire, massive assembly in a beautiful, flowing gown of spun silver.
She felt the heavy weight of a hundred highly judgmental, critical stares.
Craig’s large hand remained perfectly, entirely steady as he gripped hers tightly.
His deep vows echoed loudly through the grand, silent hall, incredibly loud and utterly, completely uncompromising.
He claimed her proudly in front of the entire world without a single, tiny shadow of absolute doubt.
That night, finally alone in their private chambers, Megan quietly admitted her lingering anxiety about the judgmental court.
Craig simply pulled her entirely close and kissed her temple softly.
He assured her confidently that they would all eventually get used to it.
He added smoothly that if they didn’t, they could always take it up with a powerful king who was entirely, unreasonably fond of his beautiful mate.
Megan laughed loudly, burying her face happily in his warm chest.
Many months later, the massive castle was incredibly quiet and entirely still.
The bright morning sun filtered very softly through the heavy, velvet curtains.
Megan woke up very slowly, her entire body incredibly warm and perfectly, entirely rested.
Craig was still fast asleep right beside her.
His heavy arm was draped very heavily over her bare waist, anchoring her perfectly to him.
His broad chest rose and fell in a highly steady, entirely hypnotic rhythm.
There was absolutely no dark fog waiting to violently drag him under.
There were absolutely no bloody ghosts standing silently in the dark corners of the large room.
There was only the incredible, quiet peace of a brave man who had finally, entirely forgiven himself.
Megan settled comfortably right back against his broad, warm shoulder.
She slowly closed her eyes and let the intense warmth pull her right back into a deep, peaceful sleep.
THE END
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Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered. Any resemblance is coincidental. The author and publisher disclaim accuracy, liability, and responsibility for interpretations or reliance. If you would like to share your story, please send it to [email protected].
