Emily Taylor

In the corridor of a women’s clinic, an elderly woman sat on a bench. Beside her was a slender teenage

**Diary Entry** I’ll never forget the day I sat in the waiting room of a women’s clinic in London.

Emily tried to swallow her tears, not wanting to ruin the gathering. She adjusted her jumper over her

**Diary Entry:** I suppose people think I’ve been unbelievably lucky in life. I always hated my name—Maisie—and

During the divorce, my wife and I were dividing our possessions when she suddenly shoved a cage toward me.

Emily bit back tears, refusing to let them ruin the day. She straightened her jumper over her growing

Long ago, in the quiet countryside of England, there lived a woman named Eleanor Whitmore—gentle, unassuming

Clara smoothed down her floral summer dress, dabbed a hint of lipstick on her thin lips, and gave herself

We were divorcing, splitting everything we’d owned together. Then came the hitch. “Take this!”

**Diary Entry** I’ve been thinking lately about what happens to a woman who sacrifices too much for others.