Chapter 3The System’s Puppet

I had shrimp and beef from yesterday’s grocery run.

I quickly threw together a couple of simple dishes and set them on the table.

The meal was quiet.

I couldn’t help myself. I placed a piece of meat on his plate.

“Eat up. It’ll help you grow.”

He was seven, but he was small for his age.

Was it because I had given birth to him prematurely? Was that why he was so frail?

When it was time for bed, he just stood there, staring at me with those big, hopeful eyes.

I sighed and pulled back a corner of the covers.

He scrambled in, whispering, “Thanks, Mom.”

I let out another sigh. I was probably becoming desensitized to the word “Mom.”

Whatever. If the kid wanted to call me that, let him.

“Mom, I’m scared of the dark. When it gets dark, Dad changes.”

I held him close.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Soon, his breathing evened out. Kids fall asleep so quickly, like flipping a switch.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Suddenly, there was this small, milk-scented child in my bed, a child who shared my blood. My mind was a chaotic mess.

Time ticked by.

Just as I was about to drift off, I heard a choked sob.

It was Elliot.

Tears were streaming down his face.

“Dad… I’ll remember Mom… I won’t forget her…”

“Don’t cry, Dad… I can remember Mom…”

He hiccupped a few more times, then snuggled closer and fell back asleep.

I stared at the ceiling, wide awake for the rest of the night.