"Isn't that Evelyn? I heard she just got out of prison," one of the passersby whispered.
"Tsk, she's probably done for in the community now," another replied.
"Someone like her should've left the fashion industry ages ago," a third chimed in. "And she's still acting like a queen?"
I ignored their sneers, and stumbled all the way home.
It had been two years. Would there still be any warmth left in the house? Had Zachary grown taller? Did he cry himself to sleep at night, missing his mother's embrace?
And Ethan—was he busy at work? Was he still pulling all-nighters, skipping meals?
The more I thought about it, the heavier my heart became. Tears streamed down my face, and my legs felt like they might give out. I nearly collapsed under the weight of it all.
Finally, I reached the door to our home. My hands trembled as I punched in the familiar code. The door clicked open. The house was dark. It was silent and lifeless.
"Zach? Ethan? Are you here?" My voice wavered, echoing through the vast, empty space. The only response was silence.
I collapsed onto the floor, utterly drained. Tears spilled freely, a torrent that I couldn't hold back. They weren't here. None of them were here.
My child, my husband—my dearest family, the ones who consumed my every thought—were gone, with no sign of where they could be.
A desperate scream tore from my throat, anguished. Why did this happen? I only ever wanted to protect them, and yet, this was what I got in return. Why did fate have to be so cruel? Was my only crime loving them too much?
"Zach, I'm so sorry. I'd failed to protect you. Ethan, where are you? I miss you so much…" The sorrow overwhelmed me, pulling me under like an unrelenting tide.
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