So I accepted the easiest answer.
That evening, Elio refused to sit beside me while I fed the baby. When she cried, he covered his ears and left the room.
At dinner, he knocked over his milk after the baby made a sudden sound from upstairs.
Keaton snapped, “Pay attention.”
Elio burst into tears so quickly that all three of us froze.
I took him upstairs and found him sitting outside the nursery twenty minutes later, hugging his knees.
I lowered myself beside him.
“You can tell me if you’re upset that the baby is taking my time.”
He looked offended.
“I wanted Liora.”
“She is Liora.”
“No, Mommy.”
This time, there was no anger in his face.
Only fear.
“That baby isn’t my sister.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
His eyes went to the stairs.
“I don’t want Dad to hear.”
