Chapter 2: Dentures and Doubt

Her whole family went overseas. Tyler was too young for the long flight, so Jenna left him with me.

She sounded thrown by my question.

"If he's not nine, what is he, Benjamin Button?"

Her laughter was light, but I could hear the confusion underneath. I realized how weird I must sound. But the dentures in my hand made my skin crawl.

That’s when I finally told her about the dentures.

Jenna let out this weird half-laugh, half-groan.

"Morgan, just because we watched that horror flick last week, now you think my nephew's some creepy adult pretending to be a kid?"

Last week, we watched that old horror movie together.

In the movie, the adopted little girl looked like a kid. But she actually had this rare disorder and was really a middle-aged woman. She was obsessed with the male lead and tried to kill his wife...

I could still picture the flickering TV. The way Jenna hid behind a pillow during the goriest parts. Seeing the dentures today, I couldn't help but think of that film.

Jenna saw right through me. I felt a little embarrassed.

She sounded exasperated. "Morgan, I watched my sister carry him for nine months, feed him, raise him. How could he possibly be some old man in disguise?"

I frowned. "Then what about these dentures?"

She just brushed it off. "Probably just a toy. Anyway, don't worry. Tyler's just a normal kid."

After her reassurances, I finally started to relax.

I took a deep breath and set the dentures on the kitchen counter. Told myself it had to be some weird prank or a leftover Halloween prop. Maybe Tyler found them in a costume box. Still, my nerves felt raw.

When I walked into the living room, I saw Tyler with his notebook, doodling away.

He was hunched over, tongue poking out in concentration, pencil moving in quick, looping strokes. The afternoon sun slanted across the rug, catching the dust motes in the air. For a moment, he looked just like any other kid.

I walked over. "Tyler, what are you writing?"

He immediately snapped the notebook shut and flashed me a sweet smile. "It's a journal for school. Auntie, will you take a bath with me today?"

This kid is clever and adorable—not the least bit naughty. But he does have one quirk: he always asks to bathe with me.

I used to think it was just childish talk. So after turning him down, I never thought much of it.

But after seeing those dentures today, I felt inexplicably uneasy.

I forced a smile and tried to sound casual. "Tyler, I've told you before, you're a boy. I can't bathe with you."

My voice wavered just a little, but he didn't seem to notice. He just kept looking at me with those big, unblinking eyes.

"And it's still early. Why don't we go downstairs and play for a while first, okay?"

As I stood up, I suddenly remembered something. I quickly added,

"If we run into Mrs. Henderson's dog from across the hall, remember to stay away, all right?"