No laughter. No sounds of a child playing. No movement at all.
Brooke’s stomach twisted into knots. She could feel the tension in the air. She walked into the house, her eyes immediately scanning for her daughter. She found Ivy curled up in an oversized t-shirt, her tiny body hunched over, looking like a fragile bundle of bones. Her skin was pale, her cheeks sunken in, and her eyes—once so full of life—were dull and clouded. She let out a raspy, pitiful whisper. “Mommy…” The word sent a jolt of terror through Brooke.
In that moment, all of her worst fears were realized.
Her daughter wasn’t just hungry—she was malnourished, starved.
Brooke rushed over to her daughter, gently picking her up and carrying her into the living room. But as she held Ivy, the reality of the situation hit like a slap. Ivy’s body felt weak and hollow. Her legs wobbled, and her face was gaunt.
