Ana's POV
Hughes looked absolutely wrecked—dirt smeared across his round cheeks, one suspender dangling loose from his desperate flight. His tiny clothes hung askew on his small frame.
I hesitated, something tugging at my chest.
Pushing him away felt impossible.
But I wouldn't coddle him either. "What happened?" I asked coolly.
Hughes wrapped himself around my leg like a vice, pressing his face into the fabric of my pants. His whole body shook with terror.
No words came out—just endless whispers of "Mommy."
My hands almost moved on their own, but I held back.
Morris finished dealing with the blonde troublemaker and spotted us. His jaw tightened as he approached, reaching for Hughes.
But the kid only squeezed tighter, stubborn as hell.
For such a small thing, he had surprising strength.
Morris tried prying him loose a few times, getting nowhere. His patience was clearly running out.
"Let go," Morris's voice turned arctic.
