He clutched his stuffed bunny so tight I thought the seams would split. His lip trembled, eyes full of panic.
People were staring. We were in the middle of the food court.
I knelt down, heart pounding. “What’s wrong, baby? I’m right here.”
But he backed up. One slow step. Then another.
“That’s not my mommy,” he said. Louder this time. His voice cracked. “She changed her face.”
