Tasha was busy baking bread, her mind lost in the repetitive motions. Her hands moved automatically, a temporary escape from the anxiety that clouded her days. Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her, making her jump."Hey, you got scared. I just came to check if the bread's done," Uncle James said, his smile holding a predatory edge. His eyes lingered on her with a familiarity she despised. Tasha's pulse quickened."It's not done yet. You should go sit outside. I'll bring it to you." She tried to keep her voice steady, but fear laced her tone. Carl’s words echoed in her mind, urging her to be brave, to stand up for herself. Uncle James ignored her, stepping closer. "Hey, the bread’s burning," he said, seizing her wrist. His grip was too tight, his intentions all too clear."Leave my hand!" Tasha yanked her hand back, her voice rising.She picked up the hot tongs, her grip firm despite the fear that churned in her stomach. With a surge of anger, she swung them at him. The tongs seared
Read more