Standing there with the same composed posture, the same steady presence—but something had shifted.
The cold superiority was gone.
So was the quiet contempt she had felt before.
Now, there was only something heavier. Something grounded. Almost… human.
The children pressed themselves against their mother, gripping her clothes.
“Mom… I’m scared…”
“I know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around them, though her own hands were trembling. “I’m right here.”
She stepped inside.
Each footstep echoed loudly in the empty house, as if the walls themselves were listening.
“Where is he?” she asked, her voice dry, strained from everything she had held back.
There was a brief silence.
Then the woman answered.
