Today, my daughter opened her favorite chocolate ice cream—the same kind she eats almost every day after school.
Everything seemed perfectly normal: the crispy cone, the sweet aroma, the smooth chocolate coating. But after just a few bites, I heard her say in surprise,
“Mom, look at this!”
I leaned forward and saw something dark and strange inside, like a piece of paper or hardened caramel. At first, we thought it was just a small mistake, maybe an extra piece of chocolate stuck in it. But my daughter, curious as ever, decided to dig a little deeper with her spoon.
A second later, she screamed. Underneath the chocolate, hidden in the creamy layer, was something that made my blood run cold.