As days passed, I noticed small changes in how the town treated us.
Invitations to community events dried up.
The cashier at the local store, someone who’d known us for years, suddenly became distant, her smile forced and brittle.
Even the mailman, usually chatty, simply nodded as he handed over the mail.
It was as if an invisible barrier had been erected around us, separating us from the rest of the community.
Mom noticed too, though she didn’t say it outright.
Her shoulders seemed to carry a heavier load, her smiles less frequent.
Every evening, she would come home, exhausted, and yet there was a determination in her eyes.
She was bracing for whatever was coming, and I knew I had to do the same.
But it was hard not knowing what we were up against.
Every day felt like a balancing act, trying to maintain normalcy while everything around us shifted like sand beneath our feet.
I often wondered what Mom was thinking, whether she had any regrets.
Or if she was simply focused on surviving, on protecting us from whatever storm was brewing.
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