The Breaking Point

Mrs. Kowalski caught them on the stairs, her arms full of grocery bags.

"There you are!" she huffed, adjusting her grip. "I've been meaning to ask—would you and your son mind taking in my mail while I'm in Florida?"

Daniel froze. Luke, two steps behind him, nearly walked into his back.

"Uh," Daniel said intelligently.

Mrs. Kowalski blinked between them. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed—" Her cheeks pinked. "You have the same smile."

Daniel turned to look at Luke. The kid was staring at his shoes, shoulders hunched, but there was no denying it—the way his mouth quirked to the side when he was trying not to laugh, the crease between his eyebrows when he was annoyed.

It wasn't Lila's smile. It was his.

Something warm settled in Daniel's chest.

"Yeah," he heard himself say. "We'll get your mail."