The small grocery store on the outskirts of Willowbrook was usually quiet in the early evening. Most days, the air carried nothing more than the soft hum of refrigerators and the faint shuffle of customers drifting in and out. But today, the silence felt different. It was heavier. Tighter. As if the entire room were holding its breath. At the center of that stillness stood nine-year-old Kayla. She held her infant brother tightly in one arm, his tiny body pressed against her chest for warmth and comfort. In her other hand, she clutched a carton of milk. Her fingers were...
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