HIS to CLAIM

Everything happened in a blur.

One moment, I was curled up on the living room couch, legs tucked under me, laughing so hard I could barely breathe. My younger brother Adam had just cracked another one of his ridiculous jokes-the kind that made no sense but somehow left everyone in stitches. He was wearing that goofy dinosaur hoodie he refused to outgrow, his eyes glowing with mischief.

Across the room, my mother sat regally on her favorite burgundy velvet sofa, the one she always claimed made her feel like a queen. She was braiding my little sister Delilah's hair, her fingers weaving through the strands with a grace that only came from years of loving practice. Delilah, ever the perfectionist, squirmed under Mom's touch but smiled anyway, her face lit with innocent joy.

The house was warm, not just in temperature but in feeling. It smelled of cinnamon candles and fresh linen. The late afternoon sun spilled through the windows, casting golden streaks on the walls. There was laughter. So much laughter. And for a fleeting second, everything felt perfect.

I should've paid more attention.

To the way Adam's eyes sparkled when he laughed.

To the gentle rhythm of Mom's hum as she worked her fingers through Delilah's hair.

To the way our home breathed-alive, safe, sacred.

Because that was the last time I would ever hear it.

The last time I would feel it.

The explosion came without warning.

A thunderous roar shattered the windows. The air turned to fire. The walls cracked open and groaned like they were screaming, and smoke poured in like a beast unleashed from hell. A blinding flash of light-and then chaos.

I was thrown from the couch, landing hard against the floor. The impact knocked the air from my lungs. My ears rang, high-pitched and sharp. For a moment, I couldn't move-I could barely think.

Then came the screams.

High-pitched. Raw.

My sister. My mother. I couldn't hear Adam.

I scrambled up, every muscle screaming in protest, and turned toward the sound of my mother's voice-but it was fading. Everything was fading. Thick, acrid smoke burned my eyes. The walls, once filled with pictures and warmth, were collapsing inwards.

Armed men-cold-faced, dressed in black-poured into the room through the smoke. Their guns were already raised. They didn't look around. They didn't speak. They shot at anything that moved.

I dropped to the floor again, crawling through broken glass and wood, my knees slick with blood. My hands stung, cut open from the debris, but I didn't care.

"Adam!" I shouted, coughing, crying, choking on the ash. No answer.

"Delilah?!"

Nothing.

And then I saw her.

My mother.

Trapped beneath the rubble of what used to be our kitchen wall. Her hands were trembling, reaching-clawing-for something. For me.

I forced myself forward, ignoring the stabbing pain in my knees and palms. I was so close. Inches away.

"Mom!" I screamed, reaching for her.

Our fingers nearly touched.

Then the shots rang out.

Five. One after the other. Brutal. Final.

Her hand jerked.

Then it went still.

Her blood spread like a shadow across the floor, soaking into the wood, seeping toward me.

She wasn't moving.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. Something inside me snapped so violently that I became still. Frozen in place, as if the world had paused just for me.

The men noticed me.

One of them pointed his weapon.

I closed my eyes. I wasn't ready, but I didn't care. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe it was easier this way.

But death didn't come.

Gunfire erupted again, but it wasn't aimed at me. I felt something-no, someone-pulling me up, lifting me off the floor with strong, firm arms. My head rolled weakly to the side. I caught a glimpse of the gunmen falling-fast, like puppets with their strings cut.

I was being carried, cradled like I was weightless. I couldn't fight. I couldn't speak.

All I could do was breathe. Barely.

"Keep your eyes open, princesa," a voice murmured, rough and commanding, like gravel soaked in smoke.

I tried. I really did. But the pain was too much. The grief swallowed me whole.

And then everything went black.

Only silence followed.

Only darkness.