That night, Sherry knocked on my bedroom door and asked if she could sleep with me.
As I tucked her in, I felt her trembling. "What's wrong?" I asked.
Sherry peeked out from under the covers, her voice muffled. "I watched that movie you were talking about. It scared me."
I chuckled softly and soothed her. "Don't be scared, Sherry. It's just a movie."
After that, Sherry started calling me Mom. Soon, she was old enough for school.
One day, I got a call from her teacher. She'd been in a fight.
On the way there, my mind raced. A fight? Sherry? It didn't make sense. She was always so mature, so in control.
Since she'd been living with me, the horror movie incident was the only time she had lost her composure.
She was always so calm. I couldn't imagine what would make her fight someone.
When I got to the school, the teacher had already separated the two children. She explained that a little boy had seen the wallpaper on Sherry's smartwatch and insisted the person on it was his mom.
He tried to snatch the watch during the argument, and a fight broke out.
The moment Sherry saw me, she stopped writing her apology letter and packed her schoolbag.
Seeing her unharmed and composed, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, a small figure launched himself at me, yelling "Mommy!" over and over.
Sherry frowned and pulled the boy away. "Ew, you got your snot on my mom's dress."
It was then I recognized the boy. It was Leo, my son, taller now and with a missing front tooth.
He pointed at me, his eyes swollen but his gaze determined. "She's my mom! Give her back!"
"She is not," Sherry replied with equal conviction. "My mom likes spicy ramen and watches true crime documentaries. She's not your mom."
Leo looked at me with pleading eyes, clutching my finger. "Mommy, you love kale salad and you never watch scary things, right?"
I gently pried Leo's hand off mine, settled Sherry's backpack on her shoulders, and kissed her cheek. "Sweetie, can you get home by yourself tonight?"
Sherry nodded and walked away, her backpack bouncing with each step.
Leo's eyes dimmed as he watched me send Sherry off.
But when he saw me looking at him, he forced a hopeful smile and asked nonchalantly, "Mom, when are we going home?"
His stubbornness reminded me of Edwin. "Where's your father?"
Leo looked down, his gaze fixed on his shoes. "I want to be with you, Mom."
The teacher walked in, holding her phone. "Mr. Buckley is here. You can go see him."
My stomach clenched.
Leo followed the teacher out, glancing back at me every few steps.
I sat on a small chair in the office. A mischievous thought struck me. "Do you know why I ate so much kale salad in New York?"
Leo turned, a look of confusion on his face.
I continued, "It was because you wouldn't eat your vegetables, and I was worried you'd be malnourished. I had to coax you. You'd only eat a few bites if I ate a lot. That's why you thought I loved it. And actually, I love true crime documentaries, but you and your dad don't, so I went along with you guys and watched those boring art films instead."
Leo's eyes turned red, but he held back his tears. "Mom, I'll eat salad from now on, and I'll watch documentaries with you, okay?"
