My heart quickened as I neared the cottage and heard nothing but silence inside. Slowly, I opened the door, calling out, "Boys, I'm back!"
But the sight that greeted me froze me. Broken vases were scattered across the floor of the living area. Chairs were toppled over, and my youngest, Marcus, sat on the floor clutching his head.
Blood trickled down his temple, staining his chubby fingers and the collar of his shirt.
"Marcus!" I cried, rushing to him and dropping the sack of food. I knelt by his side, gently cupping his face to inspect the wound. "What happened?!"
Marcus sniffled, his tear-filled eyes looking up at me. "M-Mama… I—" he began, but his words were lost in hiccups and sobs.
My other two boys, Ksaver and Daemond, stood a few steps away. They lowered their gazes, bit their lips, and did not make a move.
My gaze darted to them. "What is this?" I asked. "What happened here?!"
