Their joy was short-lived. A thunderous cracking echoed across the field, so loud and sudden it sent shivers up their spines.
The girls froze, certain they had accidentally crushed one of the eggs. But Giselle’s sharp eyes caught something else—hope. She leaned in, pointing at a jagged crack splitting open along the surface.
“Look, sister! It’s happening!” she exclaimed.
Mary didn’t share her excitement. Instead of delight, dread filled her face. Her lips trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes. Everyone stared in confusion. Why would the promise of life frighten her so?
Unable to bear the thought of the eggs breaking, Mary sobbed into her mother’s arms. She was too young to understand the natural cycle unfolding before her eyes. Bonnie gently led her back inside, promising they could check on the sick kitten together, hoping to calm her restless heart.
Jack stayed behind, his gaze locked on the cluster of eggs. He had no idea what lived inside them.
Two days passed in tireless vigil. The black canvas shielded the eggs from wind and rain, and the family guarded them as though they were precious treasure. On the fourth morning, Jack discovered one egg already empty, its shell split and abandoned.
“Girls! Come quick!” he shouted.