When I regained consciousness, the pain was excruciating, radiating through every fiber of my being. The world around me was blurred and spinning, and I struggled to breathe. But then, a small, warm hand touched my cheek. Through the haze, Leo’s face hovered above me, his eyes wide with fear but his expression determined.
“Mom… stay still,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the terror in his eyes. There was an urgency in his tone, an understanding beyond his years. I wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but I was too weak to form the words.
We lay there, motionless, as the minutes crawled by like hours. I could hear muffled voices above us—my family discussing, deciding, and then, the sound of footsteps retreating. I waited until the forest was silent again, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the breeze.
