Chapter Text
The warm September morning sunlight bathed Hawkins Elementary School, making its brick walls and colorful banners appear cheerful and inviting. To Mike, though, it was anything but. He stood frozen on the pavement outside, clutching the handle of his new superhero lunchbox so tightly his knuckles turned white. His small fingers fidgeted nervously with the plastic, as if the action alone could anchor him.
Mike was scared. He had been scared all summer, ever since Karen and Ted Wheeler had adopted him and brought him to Hawkins. It wasn’t just having a new mom and dad that made his chest tighten with nerves—though that was overwhelming enough—it was everything that came with it. A new house, a new town, a new family, and now a new school. Mike had spent the last month and a half trying to adjust, but he still felt like he was walking around in a world where nothing quite fit.
Now he had to face this. School.
Karen stood beside him, holding her purse in one hand and scanning the small crowd of kids and parents heading toward the school doors. She glanced down and noticed Mike’s tense posture, the way he was staring at the building like it might swallow him whole. “You okay, honey?” she asked, her voice gentle.
Mike didn’t answer at first. He shifted on his feet, glancing at the ground. “What if… what if the kids don’t like me?” he finally mumbled.
Karen frowned and crouched down beside him, resting her hands on his small shoulders. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her tone soft but firm. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’re going to make so many friends. I just know it.”
Mike chewed on his bottom lip. “What if they’re mean?” he whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear.
“They won’t be,” Karen replied, brushing his dark hair back from his face. “And even if someone isn’t nice, there will be plenty of kids who are. I promise.”
Mike hesitated. He still didn’t look convinced. “I never had friends in the orphanage,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.
Karen’s heart sank at his words. She gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze and forced a bright smile. “Well, that’s okay,” she said, her voice upbeat. “You’ll make friends here. I’m sure of it.”
Mike glanced up at her, his dark eyes full of uncertainty. “Are you sure?”
Karen nodded confidently. “Of course I’m sure. You’re a wonderful boy, Mike. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their friend.”
He didn’t respond right away, but Karen’s words seemed to calm him a little. Still, a new worry crept into his mind.
“What if… what if they find out?” he asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Karen blinked, confused. “Find out what, sweetheart?”
“That I’m not…” He trailed off, glancing down at the ground again. “That you’re not really my parents.”
Karen’s heart ached. She knelt closer, gently taking his hands in hers. “Mike,” she said softly, “you are our kid. You’re my son, and I’m your mom. Don’t ever forget that, okay?”
He hesitated, then gave a small nod.
Karen smiled and squeezed his hands. “And don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. We already told everyone that you’ve always been part of our family. Remember? We told them you were living with your aunt in Oregon because you were sick and couldn’t travel. But now you’re healthy and home with us.”
Mike still didn’t completely understand why they had to lie, but Karen seemed so sure it was the right thing to do. He nodded again, a little more firmly this time.
Karen straightened up, glancing at the school building as the bell rang. “Okay,” she said, her tone suddenly bright and cheerful. “Time to head in. Let’s go meet your teacher!”
Mike followed her reluctantly toward the doors, his stomach twisting into knots with every step. They stopped outside the classroom, where a cheerful woman in a bright floral dress greeted them with a wide smile.
“Good morning!” she said, crouching down to Mike’s level. “You must be Michael Wheeler! I’m Mrs. Harrison, your teacher.”
Mike hesitated, his grip tightening on Karen’s hand. Karen gave him an encouraging nudge. “Go on, sweetheart. Say hello.”
“Hi,” Mike mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.
Mrs. Harrison didn’t seem to mind. Her smile grew even brighter. “It’s so nice to meet you, Michael! I know you’re going to have a great time here. We’ve got lots of fun activities planned—stories, games, art projects. Do you like to draw?”
Mike gave a tiny nod, still too shy to say much.
“Wonderful!” Mrs. Harrison said. “Why don’t you come inside and find your seat? We’ve even got a special cubby with your name on it.”
Mike glanced up at Karen, his eyes wide with uncertainty. She knelt down one last time, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “You’re going to be okay,” she said softly. “I’ll be right here to pick you up when school’s over. And you know what? I bet when I see you later, you’ll have lots of fun stories to tell me.”
Mike still felt nervous, but Karen’s words helped, even if just a little. He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Karen leaned in and kissed his forehead. “That’s my brave boy.”
Finally, she stood and gently guided him toward the door. Mike let go of her hand and stepped inside, his heart pounding as he took in the colorful classroom. The walls were covered in posters and artwork, the shelves were lined with books and toys, and the other kids were already sitting at small desks or chatting with each other.
Karen stayed at the door, watching him for a moment. When Mike turned back to look at her, she gave him a reassuring wave and mouthed, “You’ve got this.” Then, with one last smile, she turned and walked away, leaving Mike to take his first steps into this new chapter of his life.
Just as Mike feared, he was alone.
When the teacher had given them time to play earlier, Mike had tried to join a group of kids building with blocks, but they didn’t talk to him. One of them even turned his back as if Mike wasn’t there. He tried again during art time, sitting near a girl who was drawing flowers, but she quickly got up and moved to another table.
Now, as lunch came, Mike sat down at an empty table, clutching the lunch Karen had packed for him. He carefully pulled out its contents—a sandwich, a little baggie of carrot sticks, and a cookie. It all looked fine until he unwrapped the sandwich and noticed the mustard spreading across the bread.
Mustard.
His stomach turned, but he sighed quietly to himself. It wasn’t Karen’s fault. She didn’t know he didn’t like mustard. She hadn’t had enough time to learn all the little things about him yet. It wasn’t like Mother Mary, who had known him forever. Mother Mary always made his sandwiches perfectly—just turkey and cheese, no mustard. She always seemed to know what Mike needed, even when he didn’t say it. She had been like a real mom to him back at Saint Paul’s.
Mike’s chest tightened at the thought of her. He missed her so much it hurt. He missed her soft voice, the way she’d call him “little lamb” and ruffle his hair. He missed Sister Evelyn, too, who always told funny stories, and even Mother Alice, who was strict but had a kind heart underneath. Canada had been cold, but it was his home.
His eyes filled with tears as he stared at the sandwich. He missed the smell of the orphanage kitchen, the way Mother Mary hummed when she made dinner. He missed how she’d sit with him on stormy nights, rubbing his back and telling him stories about angels watching over him.
A single tear slipped down his cheek, and Mike quickly tried to wipe it away, but it was too late.
A group of older boys walked past his table, laughing loudly, and one of them stopped when he saw Mike. He pointed at him and snickered. “Hey, look! That kid’s crying!”
Mike froze. His face turned red, and he shrank into himself, clutching his sandwich in trembling hands. The other boys joined in the laughter as they walked away, and Mike bit his lip, trying to stop any more tears from falling.
“I want to go home,” he whispered to himself. But he didn’t mean the Wheelers’ house. He meant his real home. Saint Paul’s.
Mike packed up his lunch, leaving the sandwich untouched, and headed outside. After finishing lunch, kids were allowed to play on the playground until the bell rang. He wandered over to the swings, scanning the area for anyone who might want a new friend. But everywhere he looked, the kids were already grouped up, laughing, running, and playing together.
He walked over to the grassy area near a big tree and sat down, placing his lunchbox beside him. He hugged his knees to his chest and watched the other kids play. He wished he could join them, but they didn’t seem to want him around.
Just as he was about to give up and stay under the tree, his eyes wandered to the swings. A boy with a brown bowl cut was sitting alone, gently swaying back and forth.
Mike tilted his head. The boy looked a little lonely too.
Maybe… maybe he could be friends with him?
Mike felt a small surge of courage. He grabbed his lunchbox and stood up, making his way over to the swings. As he approached, his heart raced. He stopped a few steps away, hesitated, then took a deep breath.
“Hi!” he said, a little too loudly. He immediately winced, worried he’d scared the boy. “I’m Michael Evens—uh, I mean, Michael Wheeler,” he corrected himself quickly. “But you can call me Mike.”
The boy turned to look at him, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. Mike shifted nervously but pressed on. “Do… do you wanna be my friend?”
For a moment, the boy just stared at him, and Mike’s stomach twisted into knots. What if he said no?
Then, finally, the boy smiled shyly. “Yes,” he said softly.
Mike’s face lit up with relief. “Cool!” he said, sitting down on the swing next to him. He set his lunchbox on the ground and began to sway gently, the chains creaking softly.
“What’s your name?” Mike asked, glancing over at the boy.
“William Byler,” the boy said. “But you can call me Will.”
“Okay,” Mike said with a grin. “Hi, Will.”
“Hi,” Will said, his voice still quiet but friendly.
They sat swinging side by side for a while, not saying much, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt nice.
“So, do you like drawing?” Mike asked, remembering the crayons on his desk during art time.
Will nodded, his eyes brightening a little. “Yeah. I draw a lot.”
“That’s cool,” Mike said. “Maybe you can show me sometime.”
Will smiled. “Okay.”
The two boys continued to swing together, the awkwardness melting away with each passing moment.
When the end of the day came, Mike and Will walked together to the front of the school, where a crowd of parents waited for their kids. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. Mike clutched his lunchbox tightly, scanning the faces in the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Karen standing near the curb, waving at him with a big smile.
Mike froze for a moment, staring at her. He felt the familiar knot tighten in his stomach. “That’s my, um…” he began hesitantly, his voice trailing off.
Will turned to him, curious. “Is that your mom?”
Mike tensed at the question, his hands gripping the handle of his lunchbox. He wasn’t used to calling her “Mom” yet. The word felt heavy in his mouth, strange and unfamiliar. At home, he’d usually just start his sentences with “um” or gently tap her arm if he needed her attention. Saying it out loud felt like admitting to something he wasn’t ready for yet.
Will tilted his head, waiting for an answer. When Mike didn’t respond, Will’s brow furrowed, and he asked quietly, “Is she your aunt…?”
Mike opened his mouth, struggling for a response, but before he could say anything, Karen was suddenly in front of them, her warm smile directed at Will.
“Hi there!” she said brightly, placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “I’m Mike’s mom. What’s your name?”
Will’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly answered, “Will. Will Byers.”
“Well, it’s so nice to meet you, Will,” Karen said with a kind laugh. She looked between the two boys. “Did you two have fun today?”
Mike hesitated, his lips pressing together. He didn’t nod, but Will did, his face lighting up. “Yeah! I’m glad I made a new friend.”
Mike glanced at Will and then gave a small, reluctant nod.
Karen beamed. “That’s so great to hear!” She glanced around at the other parents and children. “Will, do you see your mom or dad anywhere?”
Will scanned the crowd, shaking his head. “No. She’s probably on her way.”
Karen smiled gently. “That’s okay. We’ll wait here with you until she gets here.”
The three of them stood together by the curb, Karen chatting with Will while Mike stayed quiet, his eyes darting between the ground and the cars pulling into the lot. It wasn’t long before a woman with short brown hair rushed over, her face a mix of relief and apology.
“There you are!” she said, pulling Will into a quick hug. “I’m so sorry I’m late, honey.” She looked up at Karen, smiling gratefully. “Thank you so much for waiting with him.”
“Oh, of course,” Karen said. “It was no trouble at all. Mike and Will seem to have hit it off already.”
Will’s mom smiled warmly at Mike. “That’s great. Maybe we can set up a playdate sometime.”
Karen nodded. “That sounds like a great idea. It was so nice to meet you both.”
Will waved at Mike as he and his mom began walking away. “Bye, Mike!”
Mike waved back, his grip still tight on his lunchbox. “Bye, Will.”
Karen gently guided Mike toward their car, holding his hand as they crossed the lot. Once they were both buckled in and on their way home, Karen glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
“So,” she began cheerfully, “how was your first day?”
Mike hesitated. He didn’t want to tell her the whole truth. She and Ted had wanted a son—someone to love, someone to be proud of. Mike felt like he had to be that son, even if it meant hiding the parts of his day he didn’t want to share.
“It was… good,” Mike said carefully, forcing a small smile.
Karen’s face lit up. “That’s great! Did you like your teacher?”
“Yeah. She’s nice,” Mike replied, keeping his answers short and safe.
“Did you play with any of the other kids?”
Mike nodded. “Yeah. Will and I played on the swings.”
Karen beamed. “That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you for making a friend on your first day.”
Mike looked down at his hands, fiddling with the zipper on his lunchbox. His chest felt tight again. He wasn’t sure if Karen would still be proud if she knew everything—that he’d spent most of the day alone, missing Canada and Mother Mary.
As Karen continued to ask questions, Mike gave the answers he thought she wanted to hear, hoping they were enough. He had to be good, he told himself. He had to be the son they wanted.
When they got home, Karen gently took Mike’s lunchbox from him, smiling as she said, “I’ll take care of this, sweetheart. Go on upstairs and play for a bit.”
Mike nodded silently, clutching his red barn toy under one arm as he climbed the stairs. Each step was still a bit of a challenge; his legs were short, and the idea of falling scared him. But he was careful, holding onto the banister tightly until he reached the top.
Once in his room, Mike sat cross-legged on the soft rug in the middle of the floor. Everything in the room still felt overwhelming. There were shelves filled with toys, bins stuffed with action figures, blocks, and puzzles, and a closet stocked with clothes that fit perfectly—nothing second-hand or too small.
It was everything he had ever dreamed of back at Saint Paul’s. He used to imagine what it would be like to have his own room filled with toys, a bed that didn’t creak, and clothes that didn’t belong to someone else first. But now that he had it, it didn’t make him feel as happy as he thought it would.
He missed home.
His real home.
He missed the sound of Mother Mary humming while she folded laundry. He missed the stern but kind voice of Sister Evelyn, who always reminded him to brush his teeth. He even missed the drafty hallways and the creaky bunk beds of the orphanage.
But he had to try. He had to. This was his new home now, and Karen—Mom?—was trying so hard to make him happy.
Mike sighed and picked up his red barn, carefully placing the little plastic animals inside. He liked the barn. It reminded him of the farm animals he and the other kids used to see on field trips, back when they’d walk together holding hands. He was moving the toy cow into the barn when he heard Karen calling from downstairs.
“Mike? Sweetheart, can you come here for a minute?”
Mike carefully stood up, holding the red barn tightly for a moment before setting it down. He made his way down the stairs cautiously, still gripping the banister as he descended. When he entered the kitchen, he saw Karen standing at the counter. His lunchbox was open, and next to it was the sandwich he hadn’t eaten.
His stomach twisted as dread filled his little body.
“Oh no,” he thought.
Karen turned to him, holding the sandwich in her hand. “Mike,” she said gently, “I noticed you didn’t eat your sandwich today. Is everything okay?”
Mike’s face fell. He looked down at his feet, guilt pressing heavy on his small shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I… I can eat it now.”
Karen’s expression softened. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. I just want to know why.”
Mike hesitated, feeling his throat tighten. He didn’t want to disappoint her. What if she got mad at him for wasting food? What if she didn’t want him anymore?
“I… I don’t like mustard,” he whispered finally, his voice shaking slightly.
Karen’s eyes widened briefly, and then she smiled warmly. “Oh, honey, that’s okay! I didn’t know. You should have told me sooner.”
Mike blinked up at her, his small hands fidgeting nervously. “You’re… not mad?”
Karen crouched down so she was eye level with him. “Of course not,” she said gently. “Now I know, and I won’t put mustard on your sandwiches again. Okay?”
Mike nodded slowly, relief washing over him.
“Are you hungry?” Karen asked. “You must be starving if you didn’t eat lunch.”
Mike bit his lip, looking unsure. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he was hungry. Finally, he nodded softly.
Karen smiled and stood up. “How about I make you some spaghetti? Do you like spaghetti?”
Mike’s face brightened a little. “Yes. I like spaghetti.”
“Perfect,” Karen said, turning toward the stove. “It’ll take a little while to cook, but in the meantime, you can grab a snack from the pantry if you want.”
Mike tilted his head. “I can?”
“Of course,” Karen said with a light laugh. “You’re welcome to anything in there whenever you want, sweetheart. Go take a look.”
Mike hesitated for a moment, then carefully climbed off the stool and made his way to the pantry. When he opened the door, his eyes widened. The shelves were stocked with snacks—chips, crackers, cookies, fruit cups, and more.
“Woah,” he said softly, taking it all in.
Karen laughed again, her tone warm. “Go ahead, pick something.”
Mike turned to her, his dark eyes wide. “Really?”
“Really,” Karen said, giving him an encouraging nod.
Mike reached for a small pack of animal crackers, holding it up like it was a treasure. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“You’re very welcome,” Karen replied, watching him with a smile as she began preparing the spaghetti.
When the spaghetti was done, Mike and Karen sat together at the kitchen table. Mike, starting to feel a little more comfortable, began dipping his animal crackers into the spaghetti sauce. He giggled as the crackers became messy, not even caring if they started to crumble.
Karen noticed and raised an eyebrow, her mouth twitching with amusement. “Oh, so you don’t like mustard, but this is okay?”
Mike giggled louder, covering his mouth with his little hands.
Karen shook her head and laughed along. “You’re a silly one, Mike Wheeler.”
Mike felt his chest swell a little at hearing his full name. It still sounded strange, but maybe not in a bad way.
The moment, however, was short-lived.
The front door opened with a sharp creak, letting in the cool fall air. Mike froze mid-bite, his little body going stiff. Nancy had come home.
He stayed perfectly still as Karen greeted her. “Nancy sweetheart is that you? Did you have fun at Barb’s?”
“Yeah,” Nancy replied flatly. She didn’t sound particularly excited, but Karen didn’t seem to notice. “I have to get ready for softball practice.”
Nancy started heading upstairs, but as she passed by the kitchen, her eyes flicked over to the table. She paused when she saw Mike sitting there with Karen.
Her expression darkened immediately. Her lips pressed together, and her eyebrows knitted into a scowl. Mike stared down at his plate, pretending not to notice her.
“I’m gonna go get changed,” Nancy muttered and disappeared upstairs.
Mike let out a small breath, but his stomach still churned. Nancy didn’t like him. She’d made that clear without even having to say anything.
A few minutes later, Nancy came back downstairs, now dressed in her softball uniform. She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked to the pantry.
“Where are my animal crackers?” she asked, her voice sharp. “I saved the last pack for practice.”
Mike froze. His heart sank into his stomach.
Nancy turned around, her eyes scanning the table. When she saw the empty cracker package sitting in front of Mike, her face twisted with anger.
“You ate them?” she snapped, her voice rising.
Mike’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Those were mine!” Nancy yelled, stepping closer to the table. “I saved those for me! I wrote my name on it and everything!”
“I—I didn’t know,” Mike stammered, his voice small and trembling.
Nancy’s glare hardened. “You didn’t know? Are you kidding me? You don’t know anything! You don’t belong here!”
Mike shrank into his chair, clutching the edge of the table.
“You’ve taken everything from me,” Nancy continued, her voice shaking with frustration. “First my craft room—Then Mom and Dad had to buy you all this new stuff and spend all their time with you. And now my snacks too? What’s next, huh? You’re gonna take my friends? My whole life?”
“Nancy, stop—” Karen tried to interrupt, but Nancy wasn’t finished.
“They should’ve never gotten you,” Nancy spat, her words dripping with venom. “You’re not even really one of us. You’re just some kid they bought to make themselves feel better!”
Mike flinched hard, his small hands gripping the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he didn’t dare let them fall.
“Nancy!” Karen’s voice snapped through the room like a whip. “That’s enough! Go to your room. Now. There will be no softball for you today.”
Nancy whirled around to face Karen, her face flushed with anger. “What?! That’s not fair!”
“I said go!” Karen’s tone left no room for argument.
Nancy turned back to Mike, her glare sharp enough to cut. “I hate you,” she said, her voice trembling with rage. Then she stomped up the stairs, her footsteps echoing through the house.
Mike sat frozen in his chair. The words echoed in his head. They should’ve never gotten you. You don’t belong here. I hate you.
A single tear slipped down his cheek. He sniffled, trying to hold it in, but it was no use. Without a word, he slid off the chair and bolted out of the kitchen.
“Mike! Sweetheart, wait—” Karen called after him, but he didn’t stop.
He ran up the stairs, his little legs carrying him as fast as they could. He didn’t care about being careful anymore. He just needed to get to his room.
Once inside, he slammed the door shut and locked it. His small hands shook as he fumbled with the lock, but when it clicked, he finally felt like he could breathe—just a little.
He climbed onto his bed and curled into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest.
And then it hit him.
The tears came fast and hard, his tiny body shaking with the force of his sobs. He buried his face in his pillow, trying to muffle the sounds, but they wouldn’t stop.
She doesn’t want me. Nobody wants me.
The words repeated in his head, over and over, like a cruel chant.
His chest hurt—really hurt. It felt like someone had reached inside him and was squeezing his heart, making it hard to breathe.
Why? he thought, his mind racing. Why does everyone hate me? What did I do wrong?
He thought about his real mom, the one he didn’t remember. Why hadn’t she kept him? Why had she left him at the orphanage?
He thought about the other kids at Saint Paul’s. They didn’t want to play with him either.
Even Mother Mary, as kind as she was, had let him go.
Am I that bad?
His sobs grew louder, his cries filling the room. He didn’t care if Karen or Nancy heard him anymore. He just needed to cry.
He thought about Nancy’s words again. They should’ve never gotten you.
His heart broke all over again. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go back to Saint Paul’s. At least there, he knew what to expect. At least there, he didn’t feel like he was ruining anyone’s life.
The pillow was soaked with tears, but he didn’t move. His small body ached with the weight of it all—his head hurt, his throat was sore, and his chest felt like it might burst.
He wanted his real mom. Or Mother Mary. Or someone—anyone—who actually wanted him.
But no one did. Not his real mom. Not Nancy. Not anyone.
And in that moment, Mike felt completely and utterly alone.
Frantic knocking came at Mike’s door, shaking it slightly on its hinges.
“Mike! Sweetheart, please open the door,” Karen called, her voice trembling with worry. “Please, baby, let me in.”
But Mike wouldn’t. Not yet. He couldn’t.
He was too busy packing. His small hands moved frantically, stuffing the few belongings he’d brought from Saint Paul’s into his backpack. A tiny stuffed bear, a book Mother Mary had read to him every night, and a few pieces of clothing. That was all he had. But it was all he needed.
He was going home.
Karen’s knocking became more desperate. “Mike, talk to me! Please! I’m so sorry about Nancy—she didn’t mean it! Just open the door, honey.”
Mike swallowed hard, his little throat sore from crying, but he kept packing. His heart pounded as he zipped up the bag and slung it over his small shoulders. Finally, he walked to the door and hesitated for a moment. The knocking had stopped, but Karen was still on the other side, pleading softly.
“Please, Mike,” she said, her voice cracking. “Let me in.”
With trembling hands, Mike unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to slip through. Karen’s eyes immediately fell to his red, swollen face.
He stood there, his backpack on, his cheeks still wet with tears, and said in a small, broken voice, “I want to go home.”
Karen’s face crumbled, her lips quivering as she tried to keep her composure. She knelt down to his level, reaching out to him. “Honey, you are home.”
Mike shook his head firmly, his little fists clenching the straps of his backpack. “No, I’m not. This isn’t my home. You’re not my mom. Ted’s not my dad. And Nancy’s not my sister. I want to go back to Saint Paul’s. I want Mother Mary.”
The words shattered Karen. Tears filled her eyes as she reached out to wipe at the fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. “Sweetheart,” she said gently, her voice thick with emotion, “of course I’m your mom. And of course Ted is your dad. And Nancy is your sister, too. You do belong here.”
Mike shook his head harder, his lip trembling. “No, I don’t. I hate it here! Please, just take me back. I want to go home.”
Karen’s heart broke into a million pieces. She reached out, taking his small hand in hers and pulling him gently toward his bed. “Come here, baby,” she whispered, her voice shaky. She sat him down on the bed and knelt in front of him, holding his hands.
“Listen to me,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes. “You are home. This is your home now. I’m your mom, and I love you so much. You are a part of this family, no matter what.”
Mike sniffled, his shoulders shaking as fresh tears spilled over. “Then why does Nancy hate me?” he asked, his voice breaking.
Karen’s face fell, and she frowned deeply. “Oh, sweetheart, Nancy doesn’t hate you,” she said softly. “She’s just… she’s having a hard time.”
Mike shook his head. “But she said she hated me. She said I took everything from her. She said I don’t belong here.” His little voice cracked, and he looked down at the floor, guilt written all over his tear-streaked face. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have grabbed something that wasn’t mine.”
Karen cupped his face gently, lifting his head so he’d look at her. “No, honey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said firmly. “You are always welcome to get anything you want from the pantry or the fridge. Anything in this house is for everyone to share. Nancy doesn’t get to decide that something is hers and hers alone. That’s not how it works.”
Mike’s lip trembled again as he processed her words. “But… why doesn’t she like me?” he whispered. “What did I do wrong?”
Karen’s heart broke all over again. She shook her head, her hands still cradling his cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. Nancy is just… she’s struggling because everything feels different now. She’s never had to share her parents before, not even for a second. And now she has to share us with you. That’s hard for her, just like it’s hard for you to adjust to all of this.”
Mike blinked up at her, his little face full of confusion and pain. “But… she was here first. You’re her mom. She’s Ted’s daughter. And I just… I just invaded her life.”
Karen’s chest tightened. She gently pulled him into her arms, holding him close. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, stroking his hair. “You didn’t invade anything. We wanted you. We chose you because we knew you were meant to be part of our family. Nancy is just taking a little time to see that. But she will. I promise, she will.”
Mike buried his face in Karen’s shoulder, his small body trembling as he cried again. “I just want to go home,” he whispered, his voice muffled. “I miss Mother Mary.”
Karen held him tighter, rocking him gently. “I know you do, baby,” she said softly. “And it’s okay to miss her. She loved you so much, and I know she’d be so proud of you for being so brave right now.”
Mike sniffled, his tears soaking into her shirt. “I don’t feel brave.”
Karen kissed the top of his head. “Well, I think you’re the bravest little boy I’ve ever met,” she said. “You’ve been through so much, and you’re still here. That’s what being brave is all about.”
Mike clung to her tightly, his little fingers curling into the fabric of her sweater. Slowly, his breathing began to even out, and the shaking subsided.
“Do you think Nancy will ever like me?” he asked quietly, his voice small.
Karen pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “I know she will,” she said with a soft smile. “It’s just going to take some time. But I promise, we’ll get through this together. Okay?”
Mike hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he whispered.
Karen kissed his forehead and hugged him again. “I love you, Mike Wheeler,” she said gently.
Mike sniffled one last time, his arms still wrapped around her. “I love you too… Mom,” he said softly, testing the word on his tongue.
Karen’s heart swelled, and she held him even tighter. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she whispered.
For the first time since he got here Mike let himself relax in her arms.