As I lay on the cold concrete, struggling to come to terms with the brutal betrayal I’d just experienced, the world around me began to blur. The pain from the attack was real, but the emotional wound cut deeper. How had it come to this? How had my own flesh and blood turned so cold and mercenary?
I couldn’t dwell on those questions for long. The wail of approaching sirens cut through the air, a sound that was both terrifying and oddly reassuring. Help was on the way, though it couldn’t mend the broken bonds of family.
As the police cars pulled up, a flurry of activity ensued. Officers hurried over, helping me to my feet and assessing my injuries. I could barely speak, stunned by the rapid turn of events. But I wasn’t alone anymore. The neighborhood, initially frozen in shock, began to buzz with a life of its own. Murmurs of disbelief, sympathy, and anger spread like wildfire among the onlookers.
