The knock at the door reverberated through the room, slicing through the tense atmosphere like a jolt of electricity. Daniel paused mid-bite, his fork hovering above his plate, and looked toward the source of the interruption. Margaret’s expression flickered between annoyance and curiosity. Laura glanced over her shoulder, her eyes wide with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
I walked to the door and opened it, revealing a police officer and a social worker standing side by side. Their presence was official, unwavering, and exactly what was needed. I had called for help, and they were here to provide it.
“Good afternoon,” the officer began, his tone firm yet respectful. “We received a call about a welfare concern at this address.”
