I am full of anticipation.
A small figure rushed in; it was Noah, seven years old, the son of Liam 's adopted sister Vanessa. He clutched a glass bottle in his hand, his face filled with a resentment beyond his years.
"You wicked woman! You stole my father!"
Before I could react, a pungent liquid was splashed in my face.
"ah--!"
I screamed and covered my eyes, scalding tears mixed with an unknown liquid streaming down my face, my skin stinging as if pricked by needles. Everything in my vision distorted and faded, finally turning into a blurry, bloody mess.
"Help... Liam..."
I was in so much pain that I curled up on the ground, my fingers trembling as I reached for my phone and instinctively dialed my emergency contact number.
That was Liam's phone call.
I called once, but no one answered.
I called twice, but no one answered.
Three times, four times... until the phone automatically disconnected, leaving only a cold busy tone in the receiver.
The excruciating pain and panic were intertwined, almost threatening to engulf me.
I don't know how much time had passed when I was awakened by a series of noisy footsteps.