The morning started like any other. I woke up to the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen and the sound of Fiona clucking in the henhouse, demanding her morning feed. Alice was beside me, her huge belly rising and falling slowly, her blonde hair spread across the pillow.
I kissed her forehead without waking her and went downstairs to make coffee. Rosa was already in the kitchen, stirring pots with her usual wooden spoon.
"Good morning, my grandson," she hummed. "Pancakes today."
"Smells good."
"Sit down. Almost ready."
I sat at the table, and for a moment everything was calm, perfect, normal.
That's when we heard the scream.
"MARCO!"
The sound came from upstairs, sharp, desperate. I dropped my cup before it hit the table and ran up the stairs, my heart racing.
Alice was sitting
