Chapter 8 - BRANDON’S OWN SON
When Holly was eleven, Brandon and I had a son.
Eli.
Gene’s reaction terrified me.
Not because she was cruel.
Because she was ecstatic.
Biological grandson.
The kind of child she once considered “real.”
I watched her carefully.
So did Brandon.
At Eli’s first Christmas, Gene arrived with two gifts.
One for him.
One for Holly.
Same wrapping.
Different contents because they were different ages.
No ceremony.
No envelopes ranked by child.
Just:
“Merry Christmas.”
Holly opened hers.
A beautiful leather sketchbook.
She loved art.
Eli received wooden blocks.
Nothing dramatic happened.
That was the point.
Later, Gene found Brandon alone in the kitchen.
“I’m trying.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“Does it count?”
“Yes.”
She looked surprised.
“I thought you’d say no.”
“Trying counts.”
He paused.
“It just doesn’t erase.”
Gene nodded.
“I know.”
That was when I realized she had actually changed.
Not because she became perfect.
May you like
Because she stopped demanding that improvement purchase amnesia.
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