Daniel stood beside her, smiling weakly, clearly uncomfortable, but he said nothing. Nothing to stop her, nothing to defend me. That silence hurt almost as much as her words.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to grab Lucas and slip out unnoticed. But before I could gather myself, I saw my son push back his chair. His small hands clenched into fists, his face determined. Before I could stop him, he marched up to the stage.

The DJ looked startled as Lucas tugged at his sleeve and asked for the microphone. After a moment’s hesitation, the man handed it to him. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched my nine-year-old son, in his little suit and shiny shoes, stand in front of two hundred people, microphone in hand.

He cleared his throat, his voice trembling at first but growing stronger with every word. “Hi, everyone. I know I’m just a kid, but I need to say something.”