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Then Milo started mentioning a boy named Silas.
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One afternoon, he stormed in and threw his backpack on the floor. “Silas called me his brother again!”
I laughed it off. “Maybe he’s just messing with you, bud.”
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Milo rolled his eyes. “He keeps saying we have the same dad but different moms. It’s so weird.”
Something twisted low in my stomach for a second. Then I told myself kids say strange things constantly. It didn’t have to mean anything.
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A week later, the school called. “Milo’s been in another fight with Silas. This one’s serious. You need to come in.”
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I rushed over, already rehearsing an apology for my son’s temper. The second I stepped into that office, I went straight to Milo.
“Baby, are you okay?”
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He didn’t answer. He just lifted his hand and pointed at the wall behind me.
Another boy sat there.
⸻
I turned around, and I froze completely.
