I didn't know why the police told me to wait. They didn't explain, only commanded: Stay where you are. Someone is coming.
They arrived sooner than I expected.
First, my parents. My mother almost ran to me. The moment she saw the dried blood along my hairline, she gasped and froze—just for half a second—then pulled me into her arms.
"Oh my God," she said, her voice breaking. Her hands gripped my shoulders with a desperate strength. "We're going to the hospital. Now."
My father stood behind her, pale and rigid as stone. He stared up at the building, his voice low and tight with a cold fury. "Are they still up there?"
I nodded. "In my home."
Not long after, two officers arrived. I kept my voice down and went over the sequence again for them, trying to stay as rational as possible.
"Let's go," one of the officers said. "We're going up."
At the door, I hesitated for a moment, falling behind the others.
I didn't know what I would see when the door opened. My father went first, my mother followed, and the officers moved with them. I followed behind, my steps slow, finding myself half a step behind the group.
The doorbell rang. Daniel opened the door.
My father didn't wait for him to speak. He strode across the threshold, his voice sharp with restrained rage: "What the hell is going on here?!"
The door swung wider. Inside, the lights were on—bright, steady, and normal. There were no signs of a struggle, no disorder. It was exactly as it always was when I was home.
My parents and the officers went in together. I stayed at the threshold, closed my eyes, and took a single breath. Then, I stepped inside.
The moment I entered the room, my gaze froze.
Daniel and Luna were in the center of the living room, with the officers already standing before them. But my father, after that initial shout, fell silent.
He and my mother were standing directly in front of Luna, one on either side. They stood with their backs to me, arms partially spread, forming a solid, protective shield around her.