?Chapter 2883:


    “I’ll handle this!”


    “No!” Locke’s face flushed crimson with panic. Tears welled in his eyes as he screamed, “Don’t take her! Joy—Joy!”


    The noise roused Joy from her slumber. Hershes fluttered open to find Locke in tears.


    Though too young to grasp the situation, seeing him cry made her own tears spill over.


    “Locke!”


    She wailed, stretching her small hands toward him as she realized she was being carried away.


    “Locke!”


    “Joy!” Locke leapt from the bed, rising onto his tiptoes, his arms straining forward.


    But he was far too small—no matter how he reached, she was just out of his grasp. Tears streamed down his cheeks as his sobs turned ragged.


    “Joy…”


    “Enough noise!” The man tightened his hold on Joy and shot the woman a hard re.


    “I’m taking her. Keep that boy in check!”


    “Alright, alright!” The woman nodded hurriedly, grabbing a nket and handing it over.


    The man snatched it, wrapping Joy tightly in one swift motion.


    Without another word, he turned and stormed out.


    In that instant, Locke’s fear turned to raw desperation. He couldn’t let them take her away. He just couldn’t. But what could a boy so small do against grown-ups?


    Then, a reckless idea shed through his mind. While the woman was momentarily distracted, he darted toward the door.


    “Hey!” she cried out, spinning toward him.


    “Where are you going? Stop right there! You’ll never catch them!”


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    How could a child hope to outrun a grown man?


    “Be good ande back here!”


    But Locke, instead of chasing after the man, stopped near the doorway.


    Seeing this, the woman sighed in relief.


    “That’s better. Don’t run off—I—”


    Her words died in her throat as her face drained of color.


    “Ahhh!” she screamed.


    Locke had turned and charged headfirst toward the old, wobbly dining table. Squeezing his eyes shut, he hurled himself forward with all the force his little body could muster.


    “Stop!” the woman shrieked, lunging to catch him.


    She grabbed his arm just as he struck, pulling him into her arms.


    Her heart seized at the sight of his face.


    A deep gash split his forehead, and a crimson trail of blood streamed down, dripping steadily. His eyes were shut, his small frame limp in her grasp as though unconscious.


    “Oh my God!” The woman’s hands trembled, her courage shattered.


    Clutching him tightly, she stumbled out into the night.


    The man hadn’t gone far.


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