She should have died. At 29 kilograms, Annie’s world shrank to hospital walls, collapsing lungs, and the quiet countdown of a heart too tired to go on. Doctors warned. Loved ones pleaded. But no one could choose life for her. The day she finally did, everything shifted—slowly, painfully, defiantly. Recovery wasn’t a miracle; it was a daily fistfight with the voice that told her she was safer disappearing. She relearned how to eat without bargaining, how to rest without earning it, how to exist without apologizing. And then she ra… Continues…
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