The first thing I noticed wasn’t the haircut.
It was my son’s face.
He ran toward me like he always did after spending the afternoon at his grandmother’s house—but something was off. His usual bounce was gone. His hand kept going up to his head, touching it in small, uncertain movements, like he didn’t quite recognize it anymore.
“Hi, sweetheart,” …
👇 👇 👇 👇 👇
