I Know

I just know.

I know my eldest suffers, but I can do nothing about it, because he shies from my voice and eludes my advice. Contrary child enjoys the suffering, I think. He always has felt guilty for having that power.

I know that he wonders about his father still, and about my past. He is too polite to ask, and this is why I love him. He would love me less if he knew things as I do.

But I ought to tell him this one thing, because I know. He has no reason to suffer.

His brother lives.