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Emma Franklin wore the kind of smile the way one wears a disguise. It was a façade she used to prevent others from seeing that her world had fallen apart and she was barely hanging on, but no one close to her was fooled. She was not quite thirty-four and living each day had become a challenge. Trying to avoid having her despair appear obvious to anyone she met was becoming difficult. Tears lingered just below the surface and she had never felt so vulnerable, but she worked hard to wear a smile whenever Christopher was looking her way. They watched the children playing together at the dining room table from the couch in the living room. The kids were all smiling and laughing, and it should have been a happy time, but the looming threat that hung over them like a dark cloud colored every da