“Oh, really?” I teased, brushing her hair back. “What is it this time, a castle? A puppy?”
She shook her head hard. “Nope. You’ll see.”
That evening, after dinner, she climbed onto my lap and pulled a folded sheet of paper from her bag.
“Look, Mommy!” she said, beaming. “I drew our family!”
And there it was. A cheerful little drawing in bold colors. Me, smiling. Mark, tall and waving. Anna, right in the middle, with her pigtails sticking out like antennae.
But then, my heart stumbled.
Next to Anna was another figure. A boy. Drawn the same size as her, with a big smile, holding her hand like he belonged there.
That was the moment I realized: something was very, very wrong.
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