"He is cursed, Irene! Why don't you understand me?" The man's voice was sharp, reverberating through the small house. Each word cut through the tense air like a knife.
Inside the dimly lit kitchen, a small child sat curled up in the corner, trembling. His face was pale, lips quivering, eyes wide with terror. His knees were drawn to his chest, and his tiny arms wrapped around them as if trying to shield himself from the harsh reality unfolding outside the door.
Beyond the doorway, two figures stood locked in a fierce argument. A man and a woman, both of similar age, their faces contorted with anger. The man's fists were clenched, his stance rigid as he glared at the woman. His voice, dripping with venom, filled the space between them.
