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It happened swiftly. The children were gathered, not with love or care, but with haste and cold precision. They were placed on rickety boats, the kind that could never survive the storm that was brewing off the horizon. Their tiny faces pressed against the wooden sides, eyes wide with confusion and fear. And then, as the waves began to churn violently beneath them, the boats set sail—into the unknown.
The sea, once a source of life and livelihood for the villagers, had now become their executioner. The sky darkened, as if mourning for the lost souls, and the first gusts of wind seemed to carry away the last traces of innocence.