Amanda Stephenson, 37
Grabbing a bag of feed from the garage, I watched my little boy Alex, then 2, run toward the hutches.
‘Wait for me,’ I called.
It was December 2016, a busy time with Christmas round the corner.
But this was our daily morning routine.
We'd dropped his big sisters Alyssa and Rachel, my girls from a previous relationship, off at school.
Alex's dad Jacob, then 26, was at work as a mechanic.
Now it was time for us to feed the rabbits and chickens in the garden.
Only, as I poked my head intohutch, Alex toddled back towards the garage.
