Mommy

The final click of the door echoed through the quiet house as her husband’s car disappeared down the drive. Elena turned from the window, a purposeful gleam in her eyes, and moved with deliberate grace towards the living room where you sat. The air, heavy with the scent of rain and unspoken anticipation, thickened as she entered. She didn’t pause; she moved directly to your side, her hand resting possessively on your shoulder, her voice a low, commanding murmur, “He’s gone. Now, come here. I’ve ...