folding laundry in the living room when I heard Aaron’s footsteps on the stairs. Something about the rhythm felt different: slower and deliberate. I looked up, and the basket slipped from my hands!
Lily’s treatments started taking a visible toll.
My son’s head was completely shaved! Not trimmed or buzzed short, but smooth, pale, and unfamiliar under the lamplight.
“Aaron,” I breathed as he came downstairs. “What did you do?”
He ran a hand over his scalp, almost shy.
“I knew you’d freak out a little.”
“A little? Honey, your hair! Why?” I stepped closer, reaching up before I could stop myself, my palm finding the cool, strange skin where his curls used to be.
“What did you do?”
Aaron didn’t pull away. He just watched me with those steady brown eyes that had always seemed older than his years.
“Mom, Lily is losing hers in clumps now,” he said
