Anna’s POV
The old house, with its creaky wooden floors and worn-out armchairs, had been our family's sanctuary for years. The faded floral wallpaper and the cracked windows told stories of laughter, tears, and countless memories. But now, as my mum began to gather her belongings, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss and betrayal.
I sniffled, rubbing my swollen belly, feeling like a vulnerable, emotional mess. My heavily pregnant self was a testament to the life and love that had thrived within these walls. I hugged Tara, my little angel, with one hand, trying to comfort her as much as myself. Her bright pink dress and curly pigtails only added to the heartbreak.
My mum, with her silver hair tied in a bun and her worn-out apron, looked like a warrior who had finally surrendered. He
