He gave off an energy that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up every time I saw him.
So when my son came home carrying something from him, alarm bells clanged in my head.
“Alex,” I said carefully, “did Mr. Harlan say what’s inside that box?”
Alex grinned. “Yeah! He said it’s a treasure. A special surprise just for me. He told me to open it right away when I got home.”
His little body bounced with excitement, as though this box was the highlight of his young life.
Every instinct I had screamed to snatch it away and toss it straight into the trash. But the joy in Alex’s eyes stopped me. I hated disappointing him, especially since life hadn’t been easy lately. His dad and I split up a year ago, and I’d been doing my best to keep Alex’s world stable. Seeing him happy—even if it was over something small—felt precious.
