I thought it would be easy to take care of my five-year-old niece for a few days while my sister was away on business, until one sentence shattered everything I knew.
That night I made beef stew, set it in front of him, and watched him freeze to ice, staring silently at the bowl as if afraid to touch it.
Trying to stay calm, I asked, “Why aren’t you eating?”
He barely moved, just whispered so softly that I could barely hear, “Can I eat today?”
My heart sank.
I forced a smile on my face, leaned closer, and said, “Of course I can eat,” but as soon as I said the words, her face darkened and she burst into tears, as if she had been holding it in for too long.
My sister, Megan, left early Monday morning for a three-day business trip.
He ran out the door with his laptop and that tired smile that parents wear as a second face.
Before she could finish her reminder about screen time and evening routine, her five-year-old daughter, Lily, wrapped her arms around Megan’s legs, as if trying to physically stop her from leaving.
Megan lifted him gently, kissed his forehead, and promised to come back soon.
Then the front door closed.
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