Angel’s eyes lit up like twin stars. “Food!” she shouted, and before I could stop her, she darted to John’s side. “Go on,” he told her gently, arranging a container for her. “Eat anything you want.” Angel looked back at me, her face a question. I didn’t give permission. My gaze was locked on him. “Hello? Did you hear what I said?” My voice was sharp. He looked up at me, and his eyes were different—colder, flatter than I remembered. “I did.” I nodded slowly, a challenge. “And?” “I’m not afraid of him.” The quiet certainty in his statement sent a chill down my spine. “Mommy, I’m really hungry!” Angel complained, her little shoulders slumping. I sighed, the fight draining out of me, replaced by a heavy, weary confusion. “Fine.” Angel scrambled onto the chair. I rushed to her side, a fresh wave of maternal paranoia surging. “I have to make sure it’s all safe for you,” I said, more to John than to her. I pushed a container toward him. “So, Mr. John. Taste it first.” He he
Last Updated : 2026-01-17 Read more