Madison wasn't convinced. She knew her son better than that.
Something was bothering him—something more than school or growing up.
A mother's instinct told her she wouldn't have peace of mind until she uncovered the truth.
That weekend, she decided to take matters into her own hands.
She knew Jack would be in his room, likely lost in one of his games as he usually was.
She approached his door and, finding it unlocked, pushed it open quietly.
That wasn't unusual—Jack rarely locked his door.
She stepped inside, her eyes immediately going to her son, who was seated at his desk, headphones on, staring intently at his computer screen.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he wasn't playing a game. His posture was different, tense, almost hesitant.
Curious, Madison crept closer, careful not to make a sound.
She had intended to casually check in on him, maybe ask if he wanted to go out for lunch or just talk.
But then she froze.
