“Yes, that’s true, but that’s completely normal after having twins by C-section,” I told him, smoothing down his messy brown hair.

“I thought if I gave you all my birthday money, maybe you’d let me stay one more month, until your stitches stopped hurting so much,” he whispered.

A terrible, smothering understanding started creeping into the corners of my mind as I put together what he was really telling me.

“Austin, who told you you were being made to leave this house at the end of the month?” I asked, my voice sinking into a deadly, level whisper.

He looked honestly puzzled by my question, as if I’d suddenly forgotten a family plan that had already been settled.