Chapter 3: The Broken Morning
Morning arrived with bright sunlight and the cheerful clatter of plastic bowls. Maya sat in her high chair, babbling and dropping pieces of pancake onto the floor. To Clara, it was mundane routine; to Daniel, the sensory overload was overwhelming.
When Clara accidentally dropped a ceramic coffee mug on the tile floor, the sharp crack shattered the air. Daniel instantly knocked his chair back, dropping low and shielding Maya with his body before his conscious mind could intervene.
Maya burst into frightened tears at his sudden movement.
Daniel looked up, chest heaving, staring at the shards of porcelain and spilled dark roast. Clara stood frozen, her eyes wide with heartbreak—not at the broken mug, but at the raw trauma etched across her husband’s face.
"I’m sorry," Daniel choked out, his voice cracking as he backed away slowly. "I’m sorry, sweetheart."
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He retreated to the porch, sitting on the top step with his head buried in his hands, terrified of the stranger he had become.
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