DEXTER’S POV
The weight of unanswered questions bore down upon the room, an invisible force that stifled the air and constricted my every breath. I sat there, surrounded by the suffocating cloak of enigma, my mind spinning with a relentless torrent of thoughts.
Drake, my three-year-old son, had been drawn into the depths of the bush in his dreams. But why? What mysterious location had his slumbering mind unveiled to him, and what profound purpose did he hold in guiding me there?
These questions, like specters of the unknown, haunted my every waking moment, refusing to grant me respite. They gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, their grip unyielding and relentless.
I felt as though I had been thrust into a labyrinth of riddles, each answer leading to yet another enigma, an endless
