Stella had started to notice something troubling: new scrapes and bruises kept appearing on Marvin lately.
Whenever she asked Marvin about them, he’d brush it off—sometimes claiming he’d just bumped into something, other times saying he got hurt during gym class.
But to Stella, the explanations didn’t quite add up.
One morning, after Marvin had gone off to preschool, Stella 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?”
Stella 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 Marvin lately.”
Abby shook her head. “That’s strange. You should check him over tonight when he bathes. See if he has any fresh bruises.”
Stella 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, Stella resolved to have a serious talk with Marvin that evening.
But that night, Marvin actually went home instead of coming back to Stella’s place.
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 to come back after just one night. This time, his uncharacteristic silence made Stella uneasy.
A worrying thought crept in: Could Marvin’s injuries… be Neville’s doing?
Anxious, Stella couldn’t help but pick up the phone and call Neville.
He answered quickly, his deep, smooth voice coming through the line.
“Star?”
Stella hesitated for a moment. “Mr. Connolly, you haven’t been away on business lately, have you?”
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