Ethan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself amidst the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He knew he had to act, and he had to do it quickly. His mind raced with the implications of what he had just witnessed, yet one thing was clear—he needed to protect his mother.
“Margaret,” he whispered gently, helping her back into her wheelchair, his hands tender yet firm. “Are you alright?”
Margaret nodded slightly, though her eyes were still wide with fear. “I’m okay, Ethan. I just want to go to my room.”
