“But I’m tired of the doll house. I want to play on the rocking horse.”

Alexander’s complaint reached Maria as she crossed the midpoint of the stairs. The creak of the ancient wooden staircase beneath her feet drowned out his next words, and it wasn’t until she approached his bedroom door that she heard him speak again.

“Oh, fine. But only if it’s a story with monsters in it. Monsters that eat little girls.”

Maria knocked softly on the door, and was rewarded with Alexander’s call of, “Come in!”

When she popped her head around the jamb, she found her adopted son by the doll house, a lip-heavy pout betraying his displeasure. He’d breezed through his terrible twos with barely a cry, but since turning six, he’d become distant and distracted. Maria and Thomas told each other it was just a phase, that he’d soon grow out of it. Luckily, she knew…