Trevor stuttered, scrambling for words, but Ronda wasn’t interested in his excuses. Her focus shifted to La Kea, assessing her daughter for any lasting harm, the fierce protectiveness of a mother overriding all else. “Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked gently, her expression softening as she crouched beside La Kea, helping her gather scattered belongings.

La Kea nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m okay, mom,” she reassured, a small smile of relief breaking through. The sight of her mother, standing up for her, dispelled the lingering fear, replacing it with renewed strength.