They were barely halfway up the driveway when his phone started vibrating incessantly.
First from his eldest daughter, Anna.
So from his youngest son, David.
Call after call, desperate quarrel.
“Don’t answer, Grandma,” Lucas said, almost pleadingly.
“Not now.”
Helena stopped.
Something froze in his blood.
“Lucas, tell me the truth,” he said, his voice filled with fear and demand.
“What’s going on?”
He shook his head, his eyes reflecting a fear that was too mature for a fifteen-year-old.
“If you had started the car, we wouldn’t be talking here right now,” he finally replied.
And at that moment, a cold wind swept through the empty garage behind them, as if to confirm that something terribly real had almost happened.
The truth had not yet been told, but Helen already felt it painfully clear.
Something – someone – wanted her not to reach her husband’s funeral alive…
As they walked down the street, Helen tried to keep up with Lucas, who moved at a pace mixed with haste and suppressed fear.
The cold morning air burned his lungs, but what really suffocated him was the question that was running through his mind:
Who would want to hurt me?
And why today?
When they reached a small area a few blocks from their house, Lucas finally stopped.
He looked around to make sure no one was following them, then spoke softly.
“Grandma… I found something in the garage this morning. Something that shouldn’t have been there.”
Helen felt the muscles in her neck tighten.
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