Bound by blood and ardor

Prologue

21 March 2017

V.R

I woke up to the sun's gentle rays streaming through my bedroom window, casting a warm glow upon my face. The soothing aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as it beckoned me from my slumber. I stretched my limbs beneath the cozy quilt and smiled as I listened to the soft murmur of my family preparing for the day downstairs. It was a typical morning in our household, filled with laughter and shared moments of affection.

I remembered that fateful morning as if it were yesterday, etched into the deepest recesses of my memory, a scene that forever altered the course of our lives. The air was filled with the gentle hum of anticipation, the promise of another ordinary day in our seemingly idyllic existence. Little did we know that danger loomed just beyond our doorstep, threatening to shatter the tranquility we held so dear.

I descended the staircase with a spring in my step, already smelling the tantalizing fragrance of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee. The alluring scent guided me towards the heart of our home—the kitchen, where the comforting sounds of clinking cutlery and cheerful banter greeted my ears.

The smell of pancakes sizzling on the griddle filled the air, a scent that never failed to bring a smile to my face. As I entered, the scene unfolded before me with comforting familiarity. Mom stood at the stove, her apron wrapped around her, a look of tender care etched upon her face. Her apron was splashed with flour, evidence of the culinary adventure she had embarked upon to ensure our mornings began with delicious memories.

Next to her stood Dad, his strong hands expertly flipping pancakes on the griddle. His infectious laughter filled the room as he regaled us with his witty anecdotes, his eyes crinkling at the corners in pure delight. His unruly hair, peppered with streaks of gray, added to the charm that made him so uniquely father.

And there was my little brother, Jace, already seated, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he prepared to torment me with his usual antics. He had a smudge of syrup on his cheek, evidence of his early morning pancake indulgence. I chuckled at his carefree nature, knowing he was up to something, as always.

"Morning, sweetheart," Mom greeted me, her voice filled with warmth and love.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Dad said in a sing-song voice that made me grin.

I greeted them back with a good morning kiss and then settled into my usual seat next to Jace. He flashed me a mischievous grin, mischief twinkling in his eyes. Beneath the banter and occasional pranks, we shared an unbreakable bond, a camaraderie that had weathered countless storms.

"Mornin', sis, "Jace greeted me, his voice laced with the playful banter we shared. "You ready for some delicious pancakes?"

I nodded eagerly as Mom set down a plate piled high with fluffy pancakes adorned with fresh fruits and a drizzle of golden syrup. It was a masterpiece of breakfast delights that always managed to make my mouth water.

As we dug into our meal, the morning sun casting dancing shadows on the walls, I cherished the moments of tranquility and unity that enveloped our small kitchen. The clinking of cutlery and the sweet sound of laughter filled the air, reminding me of how fortunate I was to be surrounded by the love of my family.

Suddenly, the peaceful ambiance was shattered by a deafening crash as the front door burst open with a thunderous crash, shattering our tranquil morning like fragile glass. A man, rugged and menacing, barged into our sanctuary, flanked by his henchmen. His eyes darted around the room, settling on Dad with a predatory gaze. A chilling silence descended upon the room, freezing us in place. The air grew thick with tension, suffocating the very essence of joy that had permeated the room moments ago.