I was just trying to brush my teeth in peace. That’s all I wanted—two minutes. But the second I turned my back, Noah went silent. Every parent knows what that means. Silence is never good.
I found him in the bathroom sitting like a king in a kingdom of chaos—about nine rolls of toilet paper unraveled, shredded, and tangled around his legs like snowdrifts. He looked so pleased with himself too, like he’d just solved world peace.
At first, I laughed. I mean, how could you not? He had this smirk like, “Look what I made for you, Mom.” But then I noticed something weird. The cabinet under the sink was open. I always keep it locked. Always. It’s where I stash the backup stuff—cleaners, razors, and… well, something else I didn’t think he’d ever find.
It was a small red box. I hadn’t seen it in years. Tucked way back behind the bleach. My heart dropped the second I spotted it sitting half-open on the tile.
I scooped Noah up and checked inside the box. Yep. Still there.
Still there… and still just as damning.
And that’s when I heard the front door creak open.
I wasn’t expecting anyone home this early.
“Noah?” a voice called out. It was Mark. My fiancé. He wasn’t due back from his work trip until tomorrow afternoon.
Panic rushed through me like a wave. I closed the red box, shoved it back under the sink, and tried to look casual as I met him at the hallway.
“You’re back early,” I said, my voice a little too chipper.