Zackary returned to the house at noon.

I was awoken by warm breath on my face. When I opened my eyes, my heart sang with joy when I met his bright blue eyes and sleekly combed hair staring back at me.

But I pretended as if he had scared the living daylights out of me. With my hand on my chest, I shot out of bed. “Oh my. That was scary,” I cried and he dissolved into peals of laughter. Mrs. Blackmore smiled at my antics.

“Why are you here?” I asked, surprised but very happy to see him back. I had grown to love him so quickly. Maybe it was because I have never taken care of a child with such a sad and vulnerable face.

The housekeeper made a face behind his back. “His mother had a change of plans so he was sent back. She has a function in Frankfurt and his aunt is too old to be with him on her own.”

“Well, lucky me then,” I cried and drew his smiling innocent face into my arms for a hug. When I pulled away I saw that his face was screwed up in half-hearted distaste, but I considered it a victory. He did not pull away or rearrange his hair.

“Lunch is almost ready so you can both head down to the kitchen in about half an hour. Do you feel better, Charlotte?”

I nodded and she left.

“What do you want to do?” I asked.

“Can we fly the kite today?"

“Well, we won’t have enough time. We need to be back for lunch in thirty minutes,” I replied.

His face fell then. “Awww … ”

“How about we read together for a few minutes, hmmm?”

“Okay,” he agreed reluctantly. We read for twenty minutes then we went downstairs to the dining room to await his meal.

“I saw your father today.”

I watched him very carefully, and saw his eyes fill with a mixture of curiosity, fear, and sadness.

“What is it Zackary?” I asked as gently as possible.

“I haven’t seen him in a long, long time.”

“Do you want to see him?”

A hundred different emotions seemed to cross his face in that moment, and for the longest time he didn’t say a word.

“Zackary?” I prompted

He turned his head towards me then and I saw the tears well up in his beautiful eyes.

Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed so quick. “Zackary?”

“He makes me afraid,” he said.

My heart felt as if it was breaking. For both father and son.

“Why?” I asked.

“He is a monster.”

I recognized the word his mother had used, and my temper flared. I took a very deep and long breath. “Why would you say that?”

“His face is very ugly.”

“His face is that way because of the accident.”

The moment I said that he searched my gaze earnestly. As if he was desperate to believe something other than what he had been told. His innocence touched me deeply.

“You know that your father was involved in a very terrible accident, right?”

He nodded.

“Well, he sustained many injuries to his face so he doesn’t look like most people, but he is not a monster. He is just …” I couldn’t find the right words. “Have you ever seen the scars on his face, Zackary?”

He shook his head. “No, he wears a mask. Mummy says the scars underneath are too horrid and frightening.”

I thought of what I could say then and my mind went to the burn scar on my wrist. “Here …” I said to him. “I got this when I was just a bit older than you. I was trying to make it better for my Mummy by ironing some clothes for her, but I didn’t understand how hot the iron was so I burned myself. The wound healed but look at the scar that is left.”

He gazed at it for the longest time and I stayed completely silent.

“Does it hurt?” he asked finally.

“Not anymore, but it was extremely painful when it happened. I cried for hours and hours. My Daddy had to put ice on it and everything.”

“Can I touch it?”

“If you want.”

He reached out and touched it, his chubby little fingers going over the raised white skin. His face was thoughtful and I waited a few seconds to let the message sink in before I spoke again.

“If I had two more of these would it make me a monster?”

He thought about it, then shook his head.

“What about if I had ten more, Zackary?”

This time he didn’t have to think about it. He shook his head immediately.

“It is the same with your father. He is not a monster just because he has a few scars on his face.”

“But he is always angry with Mummy.”

I shook my head. “No, he’s not.”

He nodded. “Yes, he is. He makes her very sad because he wants to take me away from her.”

I didn't know where to start. It was such a pack of lies. “None of that is true …” I couldn’t help myself from saying.

His response was to frown. “Mummy said,” he insisted stubbornly.

If I was not careful I was going to get myself in big trouble. “I’m not saying that she lied or anything like that. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding … you know. Sometimes adults get it wrong too.”

Mrs. Blackmore arrived with Zackary’s lunch then, and I turned to take the tray from her. “Thank you,” I said with a smile. As I put the meal before him, I quietly shot my last bullet. “Your father loves you very much, and he would love to spend some time with you, so do not be scared of him, alright?

“What about Mummy? I think she might not like it if I chose Daddy instead of her.”

“How about we let Daddy handle Mummy?”

He nodded eagerly, and I fell a little bit more in love with him.