Amidst the turmoil, the police were called. The officers arrived swiftly, taking statements and assessing the scene. I recounted the events in a numb monotone, my focus still on Maya, who clung to me with a grip that was both comforting and heart-wrenching. Evan stayed by my side, his presence a beacon of strength as we navigated through the aftermath.
In the days that followed, I found myself grappling with a torrent of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and sadness swirled within me, but above all, there was a fierce determination to protect my family—the one I had chosen and built with love. Evan and I decided to press charges against my mother for the attack, a difficult but necessary step to ensure our safety.
The dream home, which had once symbolized a fresh start, had become a backdrop for our resilience. It would take time, but I knew we would heal. Our little family, though tested, was stronger than the forces that sought to tear it apart.

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