The house was silent, thick with the kind of quiet that pressed against the walls. Andrew stood in the hallway, listening. No sound. No footsteps. No movement.
He unlocked the door.
The small room smelled of untouched food. A tray sat on the floor, the plate exactly where it had been left hours ago. The boy was curled up on the bed, knees pulled to his chest, eyes red and swollen.
"You didn't eat," Andrew said, his voice low.
The boy didn't look at him. "I want my mummy."
Something snapped.
Andrew slammed the door shut behind him. "Stop saying that!" he shouted, the sound echoing off the walls. "She's not coming. She abandoned you."
The boy flinched, shrinking further into himself. "That's not true," he whispered.
"She promised."
Andrew strode closer, towering over him. "Look at me," he ordered.
The boy didn't move.
"I said look at me!" Andrew grabbed his arm, forcing his face up. The child's eyes were wide with fear, tears spilling over.
