Chapter 1 - THE ORANGE JUICE ON HIS SHIRT
Ethan Carter only wanted a glass of orange juice.
He stood beside the kitchen island while Vanessa squeezed fresh oranges into a tall glass.
“Mom… can I have some too?”
Vanessa slowly looked at him.
Ethan had called her Mom for almost two years.
Only when his father was around.
When they were alone, Vanessa usually corrected him.
Today she did something worse.
She lifted the glass and deliberately poured every drop over his head.
Orange juice ran through Ethan’s brown hair and soaked his blue T-shirt.
He froze.
Vanessa smiled.
“Your father buys the groceries. That doesn’t make them yours.”
Ethan’s eyes filled.
He reached for a dish towel.
Vanessa kicked his small kitchen chair away.
“Clean yourself up somewhere else.”
Ethan lowered his head.
Then the side door opened.
Robert Miller stepped inside carrying a paper grocery bag.
He was Ethan’s maternal grandfather.
Normally, Robert could walk into a room and calm everyone in it.
Not this time.
He looked at his grandson.
Wet hair.
Soaked shirt.
Tears Ethan was trying desperately to hide.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
“What did you just do to my grandson?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“He needs to learn his place.”
Something changed in Robert’s face.
He crossed the kitchen, pulled Ethan safely behind him, and shoved Vanessa away from the boy after the confrontation escalated physically.
Vanessa stumbled against the island.
Robert pointed directly at her.
“Who gave you the right to humiliate that little boy?”
Vanessa touched her chest.
Then she said something Robert did not expect.
“Ask his father.”
Robert froze.
Vanessa’s expression became cold.
“He knows exactly why Ethan gets treated differently.”
Ethan gripped the back of Robert’s jacket.
Robert slowly looked down at him.
Then back at Vanessa.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Vanessa smiled.
“Ask Ryan why Ethan is the only child in this house who isn’t allowed to call me Mom.”
The kitchen went silent.
Ethan immediately looked at the floor.
That reaction frightened Robert more than Vanessa’s words.
He crouched beside his grandson.
“Buddy.”
Ethan would not look up.
“Did somebody tell you not to call her Mom?”
The boy whispered:
“Dad did.”
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Robert felt his stomach drop.
And suddenly the orange juice was no longer the biggest problem in the room.
