Madriod’s pov

“I swear, Elsie, if she screams one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.”

I slammed the kitchen door behind me, the sound barely audible over Mia’s relentless wailing from the basement. My voice shook, not from fear but from the exhaustion that had been clinging to me for days like a second skin.

Elsie was at the counter, stirring something in a pot that smells vaguely like oatmeal, but even that small comfort was drowned out by the chaos vibrating through the walls. She didn’t look up.

“What do you want me to do, Madriod?” she asked, her voice calm but laced with frustration. “She’s not...