One evening, I found him sitting in the dark on his bed.
“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” I asked gently.
He shook his head. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not allowed.”
The fear in his eyes chilled me. My son wasn’t just upset. He was scared.
A few days later, I came home early from work. As I stepped inside, I heard voices in the living room. My in-laws were there. So was Oliver.
I paused in the hallway, unseen.
“You understand the condition,” my father-in-law was saying firmly. “You don’t tell your mother what you saw. If you do, the money disappears.”
My breath caught.
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