her arms. “There are a lot of different rankings.”
Mason looked at her. “Mom, it’s the same circuit.”
That was the only correction he made all day, and Vanessa didn’t argue again.
A competition volunteer approached us with a clipboard and mistakenly assumed Daniel was part of our group.
“Families of the medalists can gather near the photo wall after lunch,” she said brightly.
Daniel straightened almost automatically.
I saw the movement.
So did Eli.
The volunteer moved on before anyone corrected her.
For a few seconds, none of us spoke.
Then Daniel cleared his throat.
“What school are you two at now?”
The boys answered.
He asked about their teachers.
They gave him names.
He asked how long they had been competing.
“A few years,” Owen said.
It was an ordinary conversation on the surface. Nothing dramatic happened. No one raised a voice. Daniel simply stood there collecting basic
