Stepbrother Dearest

Keep the change, or rather, change into these. I’m guessing your current ones are a little wet.

It’s hard alright. God, I can’t get it out of my head!

Pierced mushroom head.

Shit.

It’s all a matter of how you look at it. So, while this book was once setting up to be a tragic tale, it turned into a love story, an imperfect but unconventionally epic romance.

Scramble the letters of romance, you get Cameron. Greta came up with that one all on her own. It was her very first anagram.

Romance=Cameron.

I love you, Cameron.

THE END

In the same way that you can easily switch the letters of a word around to see another hidden meaning, such is life. A life can be defined by its hardships or its blessings.

Through death there was life. Through hate there was love. I looked down at my son. “In the end, there was you, and that made it all worth it.”

He opened his little hand, and I watched his tiny fingers close around my pinky.

“Hey, little buddy. It’s Daddy. I’m your daddy.”

“Can I hold him?”

“Yes. We just ask that you wash your hands with the antibacterial soap over there and put on one of these masks.”

I wasted no time heading to the sink, lathering my hands and placing the paper mask over my mouth.

Thank you, God. I swear I’ll never doubt you again.

Tears stung my eyes as I looked down at the picture while I walked through the gate and onto the plane. I think I must have stared at the photo for the entire six hours.

I was the son: bastard son, bad son, estranged son. But now, I was the father. It was my turn to be…the father.