For years, you felt my anger, my desire for you to rise up and fight and leave him. I believed—I still believe—that you are capable of so much. You navigated a new country and culture without any emotional support and endured so much hardship. Maybe there is no part of you that can forgive me for writing this, for broadcasting what you feel should be kept private, and for taking away your power to reveal what is yours when so much has already been taken away from you. But maybe there is also a part of you waiting to be seen, a part of you that has been buried, a part of you that hopes someone
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