Then Everett started mentioning a boy named Baxter. One afternoon he stormed in and threw his backpack on the floor.
“Baxter called me his brother again!” I laughed it off. “Maybe he’s just messing with you, bud.”
Everett 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 all the time.
It didn’t mean anything. A week later, the school called. “Everett’s been in another fight with Baxter.
This one’s serious — you need to come in.” I rushed over, ready to apologize for my son’s temper.
The second I stepped into that office, I went straight to Everett. “Baby, are you okay?”
He didn’t answer. He just lifted his hand and pointed at the wall behind me.
Another boy was sitting there. I turned around, and I froze completely.
Leave a Reply