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Rain lashed against my bedroom window as I stared at the crumpled wedding invitation - my cousin's spring ceremony in eight days. That familiar dread coiled in my stomach like cold wire. Not about the marriage, but about standing there in some shapeless floral tent while whispers followed me. I'd spent three birthdays hunting for formal wear that didn't make me look like a sofa dragged through fabric hell. My thumb hovered over my cracked screen, scrolling past fashion apps where size 22 options

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Thunder cracked like shattered pottery overhead as I crouched in my pitch-black basement, flashlight beam trembling across water seeping under the door. The tornado siren's ghostly wail had sent me scrambling downstairs minutes before the power grid surrendered completely. In that suffocating darkness where even my phone's weather radar had flatlined, I remembered KCMO's streaming technology – that stubborn Midwestern refusal to go silent. Fumbling with numb fingers, I launched the app just as h

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