Footsteps sounded behind us.
I turned.
Milo stood in the doorway.
“Hey,” I said quickly. “Everything’s okay.”
He glanced at Cecilia, then at me.
“Can Alice have more cake?”
His voice was completely normal.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll cut some.”
He hesitated.
Then he said, “It’s okay, Mom.”
“What is?”
He shrugged.
“I know I’m not really their grandson.”
Nobody moved.
I felt like the floor shifted under me.
“Milo.”
He looked embarrassed.
“It’s fine.”
“No. Come here.”
He walked toward me slowly.
I pulled out the chair beside mine.
“How long have you thought that?”
He stared at the tabletop.
“I don’t know.”
“Milo.”
“A while.”
Ethan crouched beside him.
“What made you think that?”
Milo shrugged again.
“Grandma calls and asks to talk to Alice on our birthday.”
My eyes went to Cecilia.
Milo continued before I could speak.
“And even when something says it’s for both of us, it usually feels like it’s really for Alice. And she always says Alice is Dad’s little girl. She never talks about me like I’m his son.”
