A deafening shot shattered the silence, jolting Savannah awake with a start. Her heart raced, and her chest heaved as she sat up in bed, clutching the thick, fluffy fleece blanket to her chest. The room was eerily quiet now, save for the faint crackle of the dying embers in the fireplace. She rubbed the remnants of sleep from her wide, frightened eyes.
“Papa?” she called into the void, her voice trembling as it broke the oppressive stillness.
Her gaze darted to the rocking chair by the fireplace, a familiar and comforting spot where her father, mother, or beloved nanny, Marcela, always sat watching over her as she drifted to sleep. But tonight, the chair sat empty, its gentle sway eerily absent.
“Mama? Marcela?” she whispered, her small voice quivering as if the names alone could summon
