Soren held the telescope carefully, like it were made of glass. His chest hurt in a way he didn't understand.
"I don't want you to go," he whispered.
"I know," Elia said. "But I have to take care of my baby now."
He nodded. He understood, even if it hurt. But something twisted deep in his chest. He felt jealous of the baby. So small, not even born yet—and already loved more than he had ever been.
Why didn't his mother love him like this?
He hugged the telescope to his chest all the way back down the mountain.
But when he got close to home, everything changed.
Before he could reach the door, a man grabbed his arm roughly. Then another. They didn't say anything kind. They didn't ask.
They just dragged him away.
"W-Wait—!" Soren cried out, struggling against them. "Where are you taking me?! Mom? Help!"
No one answered.
