Everyone scattered in a frenzy, like ants over a hot skillet. Seeing the chaos, Sandra hurried to help Tommy up from his knees.
“Maybe... maybe you should get up for now.”
But Tommy shook his head stubbornly, his eyes glistening with fake emotion.
“Did I do something wrong? Did I upset Great-Grandfather somehow? Then I’ll stay kneeling here until he forgives me.”
Sandra sighed and reached out to wipe his face. But her hand froze. Her fingers were covered in white fur. Her expression changed instantly. She’d raised Oliver for years. She recognized that fur in a heartbeat.
Following a trail of dark, dried blood across the floor, her eyes locked onto a nearby trash bin. Something inside her snapped. She sprinted over and overturned it with a crash. A small, headless cat corpse rolled onto the floor.
Sandra’s shoulders trembled violently. Her face twisted in horror as she dropped to the ground and scooped up Oliver’s remains.
“What the hell is this?!”
Tommy had never seen her like this—completely unhinged. His voice cracked with guilt and confusion.
“Babe, what’s wrong? It’s just—”