had I allowed my delusion to continue.
"Mommy," he said, "I have to tell you something. It’s a secret."
Adam was bending over the air mattress on the other side of the room. I leaned my ear close to George's mouth. “What is it, sweetie-boy?” I asked, with my eyes on Adam.
George’s voice pulled my focus back to him. "I have a message for you."
A chill went down my back. It couldn’t be. "From whom, darling?"
"From you-know-who."
My eyes darted toward Adam as I tried to keep the alarm from my voice. "What's the message?" I whispered.
"He told me to tell you…" George's face twisted as he tried to remember the words. "Ah—au revoir. Yeah, that's it. Au revoir. What does that mean, Mommy?"
I pulled back in surprise. Tears slid down my cheeks and splashed onto George’s blanket as I processed his words. “Well, Georgie—” My breath hitched, and the sound drew a sharp look from Adam before he turned back to smoothing the sheet over the mattress. His disinterest would have stung five seconds ago, but suddenly I didn’t care. In my mind, I could see Tiny Man lying in two pieces on the floor, choking out his final words as his face mask fluttered with each labored breath. Had he simply winked out of existence, or would he come back to me some day?
George was still looking up at me, brow creased, and I knew I had to pull myself together. The tears had stopped flowing, but I could still feel them on my cheeks. He had died trying to secure my happiness, the only thing he cared about. I wouldn’t let T.M.’s death be in vain.
I made my voice softer than I wanted to, for my son’s sake. “Au revoir is French, Georgie,” I said, with my eyes hard on my husband. “It means good-bye.”
It was up to me now. So where did Tiny Man stash those throwing stars?
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