I Thought My Son Was Just Having a Violent Meltdown—Until I Read the Message Someone Had Sent Him.

That evening, Sarah found Lily arranging stuffed animals in a row. Her rabbit sat at the end, wrapped in a tiny blanket. Ethan's old bear had been placed face down against the wall.

"What are you playing?" Sarah asked.

"They're having a family meeting. The bear has to stay over there because he hit the rabbit."

Sarah sat beside her. "You don't have to turn something painful into a game."

Lily pressed her lips together. "I don't want Ethan to be bad. He used to read to me when I couldn't sleep. But I don't want him to hit me again."

"You can love someone and still need space from them."

"Will he say sorry?"

"He should. Then he has to show you he means it."

Ethan appeared in the doorway holding a folded sheet of paper. He didn't step inside. "Can I give her this?"

Lily nodded cautiously. He placed the note on the dresser and backed away.

"I hurt you because I was angry," he said. "You didn't deserve it. You don't have to forgive me. I won't come in unless you say it's okay, and I won't touch you again."

"I was just trying to fix the banner," Lily whispered.

"I know. I'm sorry."

He left before she could answer. Sarah did not pressure Lily to accept the apology. A child counselor helped Lily draw and talk at her own pace. When Lily asked to keep her bedroom door closed at night, Sarah agreed.

Later, Ethan told his mother the messages had started after he posted a picture of Daniel's old firefighter helmet. The sender knew a detail only someone close to the family would know: the helmet's cracked chin strap had been cut by a paramedic at the hospital.

"I thought it was Mason," Ethan admitted. "I was afraid he'd say he hated me."

"Did you ask him?"

"No."

Sarah put a blanket around his shoulders. "Fear can't keep making your choices."

Ethan looked toward Lily's window. "What if the truth makes her hate me too?"