Ste had started to notice something troubling: new scrapes and bruises kept appearing on Marvintely.


    Whenever she asked Marvin about them, he''d brush it off-sometimes iming he''d just bumped into something, other times saying he got hurt during gym ss.


    But to Ste, the exnations didn''t quite add up.


    One morning, after Marvin had gone off to preschool, Ste brought it up with Abby over coffee.


    Abby''s first reaction was instinctive. "You don''t think he''s getting into fights with other kids, do you?"


    Ste frowned. "Marvin''s always so well-behaved at school. Even his teachers can''t say enough good things about him. I really don''t think he''s the fighting type."


    "True," Abby agreed. "He doesn''t seem like the sort. Did you ask his teachers? What did they say?"


    "I did. They said they haven''t noticed anything out of the ordinary with Marvintely."


    Abby shook her head. "That''s strange. You should check him over tonight when he bathes. See if he has any fresh bruises."


    Ste sighed. “He insists he''s a big boy now and doesn''t need anyone helping him wash up anymore."


    The two of them puzzled over the mystery. Whatever was going on, Ste resolved to have a serious talk with Marvin that evening.


    But that night, Marvin actually went home instead ofing back to Ste''s ce.


    Then, for the next several days, he didn''t return at all.


    In the past, whenever Marvin went home, he''d always call or ask toe back after just one night. This time, his uncharacteristic silence made Ste uneasy.


    A worrying thought crept in: Could Marvin''s injuries... be Neville''s doing?


    Anxious, Ste couldn''t help but pick up the phone and call Neville.


    He answered quickly, his deep, smooth voiceing through the line.


    "Star?"


    Ste hesitated for a moment. "Mr. Connolly, you haven''t been away on businesstely, have you?"


    "No, I''m at the Neo-Vespera Hotel these days," Neville replied with a smallugh. "Why? Do you need something?"


    "It''s nothing urgent," Ste said quickly. "I just wanted to ask about Marvin. How has he beentely?"


    "Marvin?" Neville sounded surprised. "I thought he''s been staying with you this whole time."


    Ste blinked. "He''s been back home for several days now. You didn''t know?"


    "He''s home?" Neville clearly hadn''t been aware. "I''ve been caught up in meetings these days, staying at the hotel since it''s closer. The kid never told me he left your ce. I just assumed he was still with you."


    Ste''s worry deepened. She had assumed Marvin returned home because Neville was there. Now, hearing this, she felt a spike of anxiety.


    "He hasn''te back here for four or five days. I thought he was with you."


    Neville''s tone grew serious. "Don''t panic. Let me call the house and check in." "Alright."


    A few minutester, Neville called back.


    "Marvin''s beening home every day, right on schedule," he reported. "He hasn''t been anywhere else. There''s nothing to worry about."


    Ste finally breathed a little easier.


    After a pause, she brought up her concern about Marvin''s recent injuries.


    Neville was quiet for a moment, then gave a lowugh. "I''ll head home tonight and ask that rascal about it. Don''t worry about him-he''s not like most kids. He''s tougher than you think."


    "I just worry he might be getting picked on," Ste admitted.


    After months of knowing Neville and his son, she''de to understand Neville''s parenting style.


    He believed in giving Marvin plenty of space, rarely interfering in his son''s social squabbles.


    Neville had said more than once that children should work out their own conflicts. When adults got involved, things only got messier.


    Marvin was five now, just beginning to form his own worldview. If he ran to his parents for help every time someone hurt him, he''d grow up always expecting someone else to fight his battles.