Ethan ran straight into the dining room, his small feet padding urgently across the hardwood floor.
The entire Grant family looked up in surprise, forks pausing mid-air.
The boy almost never left his room once dinner ended, it had become an unspoken rule in their household, one that saddened them all. Yet here he was, standing beside the table with his father's phone clutched tightly in his small hands, his knuckles white with determination.
He lifted the screen toward his plate, then toward his mouth, then pointed again with jerky, uncertain movements.
Bianca blinked, her heart suddenly racing. "You're asking for food?"
Ethan nodded quickly, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
Bianca stared at him in disbelief, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. This child had barely touched his dinner earlier, pushing the food around his plate in that heartbreaking way that had become so familiar. Yet now he was asking for food on his own… actually communicating a need.
