Five-year-old Tom exits the car first, his golden brown hair combed back. My muscles frost, my body solidifying like ice. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. A word is written on his forehead in black marker. WEIRDO He sets his black duffel on the ground while his older brother jumps out of the car. “Thanks for driving us, Mom!” Six-year-old Eliot calls out and spins around, the same word on his forehead. My softened eyes flit to Rose. She shakes her head, but she’s grinning. “Not my idea. They overheard Connor and me. We were talking about it, and then I caught them in the bathroom like this.”
