Jane swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the clothes. "What are you saying, Mom? It's nothing," she said, forcing out a weak laugh, trying to sound casual.
She took a step forward, her legs shaky, intending to drop the clothes into the basket before her mother could question her any further.
But it was too late.
"I know what I saw," her mother said firmly. Before Jane could react, she stepped closer and grabbed her arm, pushing her aside as she reached for the clothes.
Jane panicked.
"Oh, Mom, leave those alone! They're just dirty—it's nothing!" she said quickly, grabbing onto the clothes, trying to pull them away from her mother's grip.
Her mother's strength surprised her. The struggle lasted only a few seconds before her mother managed to yank the clothes free.
Then, silence.
Jane could see her mother's hands trembling as she held the stained fabric, her eyes wide with horror. The crimson marks on the cloth stood out starkly against the dim lighting of the room.
