As she stepped into the bedroom from the living room, Evelyn froze.

Her gaze dropped to her tiny shoes, noticing the mud clinging to the soles-remnants of their countryside excursion.

But among the earthy smudges was something far more chilling: dark red stains, unmistakably blood.

For a few moments, Evelyn stood motionless, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.

Then, her gaze lifted to the pristine white bed…

The bag of maple leaves slipped from her grasp, scattering to the ground, and the butterflies she had caught for Alexis fluttered away.

Her eyes fixed on Alexis, lying silently on the bed, a deep gash visible on her wrist, blood trickling down in a steady rhythm.

Drop by drop, the fresh blood stained the carpet.

Instinctively, Evelyn cried out, “Dad, Dad…” Her voice grew louder and shakier with each repetition.

the room, his

He forgot to breathe…

lay still as her veins pulsed with the transfusion of crimson blood, a lifeline against

receiving two packs of blood, Alexis

turned, her voice barely above a whisper as she murmured, “Daddy,” her eyes wide with

Evelyn close, his voice

“Mommy’s gonna be okay.

solace in his

secretly wishing her mother would wake up the next

as he turned to the doctor,

she

hesitated, choosing

she refuses to wake up, there’ll be nothing much

Also, Mr.

might need

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