...“Kale? Landon?” I call out, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. “I brought dinner!”
The sound of small footsteps pattering toward me is usually enough to lift my spirits, but as my four-year-old twins barrel into my arms, something strange happens. The moment they make contact, the world seems to freeze. Their laughter stops mid-ring, their little bodies going rigid in my embrace.
“Guys?” I say, panic creeping into my voice. I glance up and see my wife standing at the end of the hallway. Her face is serene, a soft smile playing on her lips, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t blink.
The silence is deafening.
I try to speak again, to move, but it feels as though the air has turned to cement around me. Then, a voice, eerily familiar, echoes around me.
“This isn’t how it happened, Thomas. You know what really happened.” The warmth of my kids’ arms around me fades. The world dissolves into darkness, cold, and unfeeling...