Chapter 3 - The Impact
For a microsecond, time stood completely still. Then, a primal, guttural roar ripped its way out of Mark’s throat—a sound born not of thought, but of pure, protective fury. He didn't rationalize; he simply became a projectile. He launched himself across the living room, a blur of grey and dark motion, closing the distance in a fraction of a heartbeat.
He tackled Eleanor with the unstoppable force of a freight train. He didn't hold back. His shoulder slammed into her torso, breaking her suffocating grip on his daughter. The impact sent the elderly woman flying backward. Her body skidded violently across the smooth wooden floor, the friction burning through the fabric of her blue shirt, until she crashed heavily against the wooden baseboard near the hallway. The sickening thud of her spine hitting the wall echoed sharply through the room. Mark didn't spare her a second glance. He scrambled frantically across the rug, dropping to his knees beside his daughter, his heart pounding a frantic, desperate rhythm against his ribs.
