It started as something so tiny that no one should’ve been scared of it… but everyone was.
Lily noticed them first.
She was eight, curious, and small enough to slide under her bed to hide toys from her little brother. That afternoon, she scooted into the shadows—only to stop cold.
Something was lined up along the far wall.
Not toys.
Not dust.
Not anything she recognized.
A cluster of pale, round shapes sat there like they were waiting for her.
At first she thought they were ping-pong balls. Then stones. But when she nudged one with her fingertip, it wasn’t hard at all.
It was warm.
Soft.
Alive.
Eggs.
Her scream brought her parents running.
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