Today my daughter opened her favorite chocolate ice cream—the same one she eats almost every day after school.
Everything seemed perfectly normal: the crispy waffle, the sweet aroma, the smooth chocolate coating. But after just a few bites, I was surprised to hear Imie say:
– Mom, look at this!
I went forward and saw something strange there, like a piece of paper or hardened caramel. At first, we thought it was a small mistake, maybe an extra piece of chocolate stuck in there. But my daughter, always curious, decided to dig a little deeper with her spoon.
A second later, she screamed. Beneath the chocolate, in the creamy layer, lay something that chilled my blood.
