“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What did I say?”
“Nothing.”
I didn’t understand until much later.
He hadn’t been trying to become my cheerful boy again.
He had been trying to become his own boy.
There is a difference.
THEN HE JOINED THE AUDIO-VISUAL CLUB
That seemed harmless.
For the first time in months, Ethan became excited about something.
Willowcrest had an old recording studio attached to the media room.
Ethan learned sound editing.
Video production.
Lighting.
He bought a cheap secondhand microphone.
Started interviewing students for class projects.
He stayed late twice a week.
I loved it.
Until he became secretive.
Whenever I entered his room, laptop screens disappeared.
Files closed.
The red metal case appeared beneath his bed.
Phone conversations ended when I walked past.
And Sophie Harper reappeared.
That was when panic returned.
I SAW HER NAME ON HIS PHONE
I remembered Sophie laughing.
I remembered the bookmark.
The cafeteria.
The months Ethan barely ate dinner.
Seeing her name made something protective and ugly wake up inside me.
One evening:
Sophie: Did you get Mason’s from last October?
Ethan: Yes. Saved twice.
Sophie: What about Hall B?
Ethan: Tomorrow.
I read those messages while Ethan showered.
I should not have.
I knew that.
I did it anyway.
When he returned, I acted normal.
That made it worse.
For three weeks, I gathered clues instead of asking my son one honest question.
THEN A MOTHER AT THE GROCERY STORE SAID SOMETHING THAT SENT ME OVER THE EDGE
Her son played football with Mason.
She said:
“Ethan looks completely different.”
“Yeah.”
“He said something weird to Mason today.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Apparently Mason didn’t recognize him at first.”
She laughed.
“Then Ethan said, ‘You’re going to hear your own voice soon.’”
I stopped smiling
