I was sitting next to my husband’s ex-wife on a flight. At first, it felt like some cosmic prank—two strangers assigned adjacent seats, only for the universe to reveal we weren’t strangers at all. She introduced herself with a warm smile, the kind that suggested she already knew more about me than I was comfortable with. “Grace, right?” she’d said. “Oscar’s new wife?” Her tone was polite, almost kind, yet layered with something unreadable. As the plane smoothed into the clouds, I found myself gripping the armrest, unsure whether this encounter was fate, coincidence, or a warning I hadn’t yet learned how to interpret.
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