I kept moving. Read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Sang the cleanup song. But my gaze kept drifting back to Mason — the way he squinted thoughtfully, the way he offered his snack to a classmate without being asked.
During circle time, I knelt beside him.
“Who picks you up after school, Mason?”
“My mom and dad,” he said brightly. “They’re both coming!”
That afternoon, I found reasons to linger.
When the classroom door opened, Mason jumped up.
“Mom!” he called, racing into a woman’s arms.
My heart stuttered.
It was Claire.
Older now, hair pulled back neatly, but unmistakable. She had dated Ethan during his final year of high school.
Our eyes locked.
“Hi,” I managed. “I’m Ms. Carter.”
“I know who you are,” she said quietly. “You’re Ethan’s mom.”
Other parents glanced over, sensing tension.
Principal Alvarez stepped closer. “Everything alright?”
“Just allergies,” I said quickly.
Claire swallowed. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
In the principal’s office, the air thickened with memory.
I didn’t ease into it.
“I need to know the truth. Is Mason… Ethan’s son?”
Claire closed her eyes briefly. “Yes.”
The word shook me.
“He has Ethan’s face,” I whispered.