In the days that followed, the birthday venue transformed into a makeshift shrine. Wilting flowers and handwritten notes pressed against police tape. Families arrived quietly, touching the barriers as if they were gravestones, whispering prayers for the children who witnessed horrors they should never have seen. Counselors sat cross-legged on living room floors, encouraging young survivors to draw the unspeakable. Neighbors who once shared only casual greetings now delivered casseroles, offered rides, and traded stories of fear and resilience.
