Chapter 3 - THE SILVER PIECE MISSING FROM THE ROBOT
My son, Noah, was four years old.
He had dark curls, enormous brown eyes, and a collection of broken toys he refused to throw away.
He believed everything could be fixed.
Even things adults had given up on.
That night, Ruth was waiting in our apartment when I returned.
She looked at my shoe.
“Oh, Lily.”
I smiled tiredly.
“It's fine.”
She frowned.
“You always say that.”
Ruth was Ethan's mother.
My former mother-in-law.
The only person from my marriage who had never treated me like a mistake.
She handed me a cup of tea.
“Noah's asleep.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
She hesitated.
“He asked about his robot again.”
I smiled sadly.
“The silver piece?”
Ruth nodded.
“He says it won't work without it.”
I looked toward the small table beside the sofa.
The robot sat there.
Blue plastic.
One missing arm.
A tiny metal slot in its chest.
Noah had found it at a thrift store.
He'd been trying to repair it for weeks.
I picked it up.
Something rattled inside.
I frowned.
Turned it over.
A small silver piece slid from the battery compartment.
Not a toy part.
A memory card.
My stomach tightened.
I stared.
Then remembered something.
Ethan had given Noah the robot two months before our divorce.
He'd insisted Noah keep it.
Even when I offered to buy him a new one.
My hands began shaking.
Ruth noticed.
“Lily?”
May you like
I looked at her.
Then whispered, “I think Ethan hid something in Noah's toy.”
