>Mallory
I kissed the crown of Asher's head. His warm breath brushed against my skin, and I felt the faint rise and fall of his small chest beneath my hands. He was so little and looked so fragile, and yet so stubborn.
Every time people asked about his age, I could feel the sudden shift in their tone, then it turned into a whispered judgment from people who didn't know him. I may have tried my best to ignore them, but I can't help thinking about it. There was no reason to explain his age to a stranger who had nothing to do with us. My kid had suffered enough already.
He's barely six himself.
"He's just turned five years old. Why do you ask?" I said casually, forcing my voice into neutral territory. I didn't want to give too much away.
His face stiffened. The quiet tapping of his fingers on his knees stopped abruptly. His lips pressed into a thin line, like he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words. Then he sighed.
I frowned, confused.
