The going home was tiring for some reason, every step feeling heavier than the last. As I approached the house, I saw my aunt and Rhys waiting outside. My aunt's face was a storm of emotions—anger, worry, guilt. The moment she heard what my mom did to my cousin and brother, she came over instantly, unable to believe her son could be involved in such cruelty.
My aunt's words hit me like a punch to the gut. "My son wouldn't do things like this," she said, her voice trembling with disbelief and desperation. The air was thick with tension as we entered the house. Mom and my aunt had a heated argument on the phone earlier, and the atmosphere was charged with unresolved conflict.
As I stepped inside, the familiar surroundings of our living room felt strangely foreign. The worn sofa, the family
