Chapter 72

• Until they reached the ground, the ride descended into an awfully tangible silence, a quiet that seemed to consume the space around them, wrapping them tightly in its invisible grip. Although it might have appeared that they were all engrossed, gazing through the glass wall, in stark reality, they were just staring into an abyss of nothingness.
• Christine cradled Ethan tenderly in her arms, her posture radiating an unspoken, fierce protectiveness. Once the immediate dread for Hunter's safety had dissipated, a wave of chilling concern for her son cascaded through her, washing over her in chilly, unsettling waves.
• Ethan's small frame was still trembling slightly, a manifestation of the massive guilt he was internalizing. For a boy of merely five, such guilt was a colossal weight, a burden too profound. His innocent wish had only ever been for his parents to be closer, to spend more cherished moments as a family.