Back in the small house in the village, Estella moved with practiced precision, her hands deftly mixing potions and applying bandages to the wounded stranger they had found in the forest. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, most of them centered on her son, Devon.Devon sat quietly in a corner, his big, innocent eyes watching his mother's work. There was an unsettling depth to his gaze that Estella often chose to ignore. Today, though, it is impossible to dismiss them. The way he had insisted on bringing the stranger back, had been so unlike him.Estella glanced over at her son, her brow furrowing with worry. “Devon, why did you want to help this man so badly?” she asked softly, not expecting a complex answer from someone so young.Devon tilted his head, his expression serene. “He needed help, Mama. I couldn’t leave him there,” he said simply, his voice a mixture of innocence and something more profound.Estella sighed, not entirely convinced but unwilling to push further. She retur
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