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Brainwash

Suddenly, the tranquility of the room was shattered by the thunderous sound of footsteps echoing from above. My eyes instinctively darted upwards, only to witness the sight of my son Marco hurtling down the staircase, his face beaming with delight.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed, rushing towards me and leaping onto my lap. "I've missed you! Can we have some fun?"

His infectious enthusiasm brought a smile to my face, but I couldn't help but notice the tinge of disappointment in his expression when he noticed Elijah sitting beside me on the couch.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" I inquired, gently running my fingers through his curly brown locks. "Would you like to play with Daddy Elijah?" I suggested, my smile unwavering.

Marco's frown deepened as he cast another glance at Elijah. "I don't want to play with him," he responded, his voice filled with a rare seriousness.

His words caught me off guard. Marco had always been warm and accepting of Elijah, even displaying a genuine fondness for him.
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