My name is Emily, and I'm a mother to a bright, curious five-year-old boy named Harry. We live a quiet life with my parents. Last Friday, we decided to take Harry to the carnival that came to town. It was supposed to be a fun day, full of laughter and memories. But that day turned into the worst nightmare of my life.
"Mommy, I want to go on the carousel!" Harry's voice was filled with excitement as soon as we walked through the carnival gates.
"Alright, sweetie, let's go!" I smiled at him, squeezing his small hand.
My parents, who adore Harry more than anything, followed closely behind. Dad was carrying the stuffed bear they had just won for Harry at one of the games. Mom was chatting with Harry about which rides he wanted to try next.
When the ride on the carousel ended, Harry came running over to us, full of energy. "Can we get some ice cream, Mommy?"
