I come back to my parents’ house. Mom and Dad rush over, their faces etched with worry and relief. Mom's arms envelop me in a tight embrace, and her voice quivers as she speaks, "Oh, dear, you scared us to death."
Dad's eyes hold a complex blend of fear and regret as he explains, "Those men tied us up, and we couldn't help you. Thank goodness you and the kids are fine."
Gently freeing myself from my mother's embrace, I can't help but ask the question that's been burning in my mind: "Where are they?"
"They are resting…" Mom's sentence is cut short as my two bundles of energy burst out of the bedroom, Evan and Barbe running toward me in unison, their voices filled with relief, "Mommy!"
"My babies." A lump forms in my throat as I kneel down; my arms open wide, and they rush into my embrace. Tears well up in my eyes as the weight of the situation slowly lifts—my children are safe.