Mia’s Struggle with Depression Meanwhile, Mia was crumbling inside. On the surface, she carried herself with grace, her smiles rehearsed, her voice steady. But behind closed doors, the weight pressed down heavier each day. She was slipping, slowly, painfully, into the shadows of depression. Every night, her fingers hovered over her phone, lingering on Maurice’s number. Her heart screamed for him, but her mind echoed Nana Nancy’s sharp words. “You need to value yourself, Mia,” her grandmother’s voice rang, cold and unwavering, always trailing her like a shadow. “Don’t throw yourself at a man who used you as nothing more than a pawn in his chess play.” The words cut her deeper than she dared admit. Some nights, she wept quietly into her pillow, muffling sobs so no one would hear. The more she fought the urge to reach out, the lonelier she became. One evening, trembling and desperate, she nearly pressed “call.” Her thumb hovered over the glowing button when Nana Nancy stormed in, sn
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