NINETY SEVEN

SLYVIA'S POV

Sunday was always a busy day, and this one was no different. I spread out my papers and evidence across the dining table, the weight of the case pressing down on me. Each document, each piece of evidence was a lifeline in the storm that was about to hit. As I reviewed everything, my eyes drifted to the living room where the kids were playing. Their laughter filled the apartment, a stark contrast to the anxiety I felt.

I smiled warmly, knowing that every effort, every sleepless night, was for them. They were my world, and I would fight to my dying breath to win this battle for their future.

Taking a break from the papers, I moved to the kitchen. Cooking was never my forte, but I tried my best. I chopped vegetables, stirred pots, and made sure the kids had a wholesome meal. Despite the stress, I wanted them to have some semblance of normalcy.

"Mommy, can we have spaghetti?" Zenith asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Sure, sweetheart. Spaghetti it is," I replied, ruffling his hair