Chapter Twenty Five
Kael had been unusually quiet at dinner, pushing food around his plate instead of eating it, a departure from his usual play-by-play of whatever chaos had happened at school that day.
“You okay, buddy?” Rafael asked, catching it before Amara did, something in his voice that had gotten more sensitive to their son over the past few weeks, picking up on small shifts he probably would have missed entirely a month ago.
“Fine,” Kael said, in the specific way five-year-olds say fine when they mean the exact opposite.
Amara traded a look with Rafael across the table, both of them clocking the same warning sign, though neither pushed right away — they had learned Kael talked easier when he didn’t feel cornered.
It wasn’t until bath time, with Amara working shampoo through h
