Chapter 1
I came home from work and found my 8-year-old stepson eating instant noodles alone in the kitchen. When he told me where his mother had taken his little sister, I grabbed my phone immediately.
Ethan was sitting at the kitchen table with his feet barely touching the floor.
There was a Styrofoam cup of ramen in front of him and a glass of tap water.
“Hey, buddy,” I said. “Where’s Mom?”
He looked down at his noodles.
“She took Lily out.”
“Out where?”
“Pizza.”
I glanced at the clock and felt something tighten in my chest.
“You didn’t want pizza?”
Ethan stopped chewing.
“She said it was just for her and Lily.”
I thought I had misunderstood him.
“What do you mean, just for them?”
He shrugged, but his eyes stayed on the bowl.
“She said I could make noodles.”
I walked to the refrigerator.
There was almost nothing inside that an eight-year-old could easily cook by himself.
“Did Mom make those for you?”
Ethan shook his head.
“I know how to use the microwave.”
That sentence bothered me more than it should have.
I pulled out my phone and called Sarah.
She answered with restaurant noise behind her.
“Hey, babe, we’re eating. What’s up?”
“Why is Ethan home alone eating ramen while you and Lily are out having pizza?”
The line went quiet.
Then Sarah sighed.
“Seriously? You’re calling me about that?”
“He’s eight, Sarah.”
“He’s fine. Stop making everything dramatic.”
I looked at Ethan, who was pretending not to listen.
“Why didn’t you take him with you?”
Sarah lowered her voice.
“Because Lily wanted one night where everything wasn’t about Ethan.”
I stared at the wall.
“He’s a child.”
“And Lily is your child,” she snapped.
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Sarah went silent again.
Then she said the words I never expected to hear from my wife.
“You keep treating Ethan like he’s yours, and eventually he’s going to forget that he isn’t.”
Behind me, I heard a spoon hit the floor.
May you like
I turned around and saw Ethan standing there with tears running down his face.
But then he reached into his backpack, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and whispered, “She told me not to show you this until after I was gone.”
