Literal 'm*therfucker'

"Mom?" William's voice cracked as it carried across the pavilion, echoing off the quaint walls.

His face froze, an expression of sheer disbelief etched upon it, resembling a ghostly figure from ancient monastery tales.

His friends halted in their tracks behind him, their mirth replaced by a tense unease.

They all stared, their eyes wide with discomfort, at the sight of William's mother sat in the lap of an unfamiliar man.

The group knew all too well that William's father was no longer alive; the implications of this man's presence were unsettling.

Olivia, with her sharp, short brown hair, watched the scene unfold with a keen analytical gaze, her mind racing to piece together the puzzle.

Next to her, Snow shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flicking between William and the couple.

Jamie, who was midway through a joke, faltered, his words trailing off as he took in his friend's shock. "William, man, is everything... okay?"