Ashes in the Morning: A Farm’s Secret
I woke to the acrid stench of smoke, my heart pounding as I scrambled from the thin mattress, my son Grayson already at the window, eyes wide with terror. We’d come to this farm in rural Somerset, desperate for shelter, trading our labour for food and a roof, but nothing could have prepared us for the darkness lurking beneath the surface. That morning, as flames licked the barn and suspicion grew among the workers, I realised someone close to us was determined to destroy everything we’d fought so hard to rebuild.