Jon... no, Luke. That was who he was now. Luke.
And, to his own surprise, he was happy.
Being three years old wasn’t amazing in the ways he’d once thought life should be — no cars, no freedom, no say in anything. But it was funner than he ever imagined. His body craved simple joys, and his mind had begun to blur into them. Bright cartoons on the television could hold his attention for hours. Toys with flashing lights made him giggle until his belly hurt. And best of all, Mommy cuddled him.
Mommy. Karyn.
Her arms were always open, always warm. She carried him on her hip, stroked his hair, kissed his cheeks until he squealed. At night she tucked him in, and in the morning she scooped him up from bed with that soft “good morning, sweetheart” that made his little chest swell with warmth. He had never known love like this — not even in his old life.
And his brothers… his big brothers. Tom and David. They played with him, chased him, let him clamber over their backs like he was their king. They guarded him too, glaring at Mike whenever he came near.
Mike. His… father. Blood meant nothing now. Mike would never be “Daddy.” Not to Luke. The man tried, yes, but every touch made Luke’s small body bristle. Every smile from Mike made Luke’s stomach twist. Luke would cry, kick, scream until Mommy pulled him close again, shielding him. And his brothers stood by him, protective, loyal.
Luke hadn’t planned that part. But oh, he loved it. Watching Mike’s face fall as the cracks widened between him and his oh-so-perfect family was delicious. Every day it grew worse. Karyn sighed more often. His brothers pulled further away. And Luke — the baby, the adored youngest, basked in all the love that was denied to Mike.
Two weeks had passed since the change. Two weeks of discovery. Two weeks of learning to live as Luke.
And tonight, as he curled in his small bed beneath the soft covers, he reached under his pillow and found it. The stone. His stone.
His little heart fluttered with joy as he felt the smooth, familiar weight in his tiny palm. The wish he had made before to always have it had worked. Through all the days of babyhood, through naps and toys and tickles, it had been waiting here for him.
Luke grinned around the thumb in his mouth. He held the stone close, whispering in his small, lisping voice. His grammar wasn’t what it once was; his body had shaped his tongue, softened his words into those of a child. But the intent was sharp, adult, cold beneath the innocent sound.
“I wish… Mommy... Karyn... will leave Mikey. Mommy get… full custdy of me an’ my brothers. She find a cooler, better Daddy… a man to love her, an’ be a great Daddy forever. Mikey… Mikey give Mommy ninety percent of his money. Mikey never see us again. My brothers be happy never seein’ him.”
The stone grew hot in his palm.
Luke smiled. His plan was set. All he had to do now was wait.
Karyn peeked into the room just as Luke snuggled deeper into his blanket. He turned his head, letting his thumb slip back between his lips, the perfect picture of a sleepy toddler.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” Mommy whispered, closing the door.
Luke clutched the stone tight, drifting into slumber with her love wrapped around him. His last thought before sleep carried him away was simple, sweet, and cruel.
She’s mine now. Mine forever.
