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It's all about Mary and her lifestyle

Chapter 1 Beginnings

Mary was born on a sunny day in June. She was the youngest child in a family of six, and from an early age, she showed a keen interest in history. Her older siblings teased her for her fascination with the past, but Mary remained undeterred.

The self discovery

When Mary was eight years old, she stumbled upon an old trunk in the attic. Inside was a tattered journal written by her great-grandmother, who had been a suffragist in the early 20th century. Mary was fascinated by the stories of her ancestor's efforts to gain women the right to vote.

The high school life

In high school, Mary's love of history only grew stronger. She devoured every book on the subject, from ancient Egypt to the American Civil War. Her classmates often teased her for being a "nerd," but Mary didn't care. She knew that she was meant to be a historian.

Life in the College

Mary enrolled in a prestigious university to study history. There, she met other students who shared her passion for the subject. They spent countless hours discussing historical events and debating the meaning behind them. Mary felt like she had found her true calling in life.

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"Carroll Brown is dead! But you have to marry him in your sister's name." My mother said to me in a cold tone. My sister was engaged to the hottest billionaire. It should have been a perfect marriage. Unexpectedly, Carroll was dead in an accident. My sister didn't want to become a widow, so she forced me to marry her dead fiance. And I had no right to refuse her. Actually, I was the biological daughter of the Smith family. My sister was an adoptive one. My sister and I had been swapped at the hospital when we were just born. My parents had already had a deep relationship with her. So they chose to sacrifice me. On the wedding day, I was taken to the mourning hall. "Ma'am, please keep Master company and let him feel warm." The housekeeper said with a cold expression. I couldn't help but look up at the portrait above the coffin, and my heart skipped a beat at this glance. The man in the portrait was more handsome than the superstars in Hollywood. Carroll Brown? My dead husband? Wow, he was really handsome! I didn't know how long had passed when my stomach began to rebel. After one glance at the coffin, I swallowed my saliva and then begged with my fingers crossed. "Mr. Carroll, I'm starving! May I eat your pastries? You don't mind, do you?" "I do." "Ah!" Scared, I broke out in a cold sweat. My legs went limp, and I fell to the ground. I shouted, "Ghost!" Carroll curled his lips, leaned over, and touched the black coffin. "Mr. Carroll has risen from the dead. What do you think of this headline tomorrow?"

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