"Can I come, Mommy? Please? Please? Please!" Dylan's small voice cracked with desperation as he stood on the cold floor, his wide, pleading eyes following Cammy's every move while she stood in front of the mirror, dabbing on the last touches of her makeup.
Cammy paused, her hand trembling slightly as she reached for her lipstick. She glanced at her son through the reflection.
His messy hair, his little pajamas, the heartbreak etched in his furrowed brows. Her chest tightened.
"No, sweetheart. You can't come," she said gently but firmly, trying to steady the emotion rising in her throat. "Besides, it's your last day here. You should spend it with Grandpa, okay?"
Dylan's shoulders slumped. He clenched his tiny fists at his sides, a storm of confusion swirling in his eyes. "But Uncle Greg will be there. Why can't I go too?"
