Chapter 2: Meeting the ‘Abnormal’ Five-Year-Old

Michael came to pick me up, and only then did I find out he had a big apartment in the city. He was so busy that his son spent most of his time there with a nanny, but it still felt like he was raising himself.

Plans changed—the park was out, so we headed to his place instead.

“These past few years, Ethan’s grandparents haven’t been in great health, so I hired a nanny to come by and cook for him.”

“His name’s Ethan Avery? That’s a nice name.”

“His mom picked it.” Michael’s voice softened for a second, and I felt a little pang in my chest for both of them.

I fell silent, letting that moment settle between us.

Michael parked in the underground garage, grabbed my stuff, and led me upstairs. The elevator ride was quiet, my nerves buzzing.

“Ethan’s still young, so I’ll need you to help take care of him.”

“I cleaned the place up again last night…”

He hadn’t even finished speaking when he opened the door and, bam—the living room looked like a tornado had hit a toy store. There were blocks, wrappers, and a trail of cupcake crumbs everywhere.

Ethan was perched on the couch, stuffing a cupcake into his mouth like he was storing up for winter.

“Ethan!”

Michael’s tone was sharp, clearly frustrated. Ethan glanced at Daisy for a split second, then bolted straight back to his room without a word, like a ninja avoiding confrontation.

Michael looked exasperated and kept apologizing to me, as if the mess was somehow my fault.

Ethan locked his door tight and wouldn’t open up no matter what Michael said. It was like he’d built a fortress out of Legos and sheer willpower.

The nanny came over to clean, which took a while. Meanwhile, Michael and I sat awkwardly on the couch, the silence between us growing heavier by the minute.

“He says he can hear cats and dogs talk—that a dog helped him find a mom.”

“But don’t worry, I took him to the doctor, and they said it doesn’t affect his daily life.”

Honestly, since I talk to Daisy too, I didn’t think there was anything that strange about Ethan. If talking to your dog is a sign of weirdness, then half the country’s in trouble.

He’s only five. His dad just brought home a new woman—of course he’s going to act out and try to claim his territory. If I were him, I’d probably do the same.

Just as I was trying to figure out how to break the ice, I heard a soft click. Ethan quietly cracked his door open a little, peeking out like a shy kitten.

We made eye contact for a second, but he quickly looked away. When he spotted the nanny, he slammed the door shut again, hard enough to rattle the frame.

He looked absolutely terrified of the nanny. The way his shoulders hunched and his eyes darted away, it was obvious he wanted nothing to do with her.

I had the nanny leave early, then knocked gently on Ethan’s door.

“The nanny’s gone. If you’re hungry, come out and eat.”

After a while, he opened the door, peeking out like a little spy to make sure the coast was clear before coming out.

Daisy wagged her tail excitedly, circling him like she’d found her long-lost friend.

He tugged awkwardly at his too-small clothes, then, like a tiny thief, reached out to pet Daisy’s head. He grabbed a mini cupcake from the shopping bag and stuffed it into his pocket, eyes darting to make sure no one saw.

Since the nanny hadn’t made lunch, we ordered takeout and ate together, the three of us forming a weird little family circle.

“Is she my mom?”

Ethan sat across from me and suddenly blurted this out. Daisy, lying next to him, barked twice at the question, as if weighing in on the conversation.

Ethan looked up at me and Michael with these big, hopeful eyes, like he was waiting for a miracle.