He blinked again.
I couldn’t hold back my excitement and kissed his forehead before heading to the kitchen.
While I was busy cooking, Silas walked in. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched me with a cold expression. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? Yael is just not talking. It’s not like he’s seriously ill.”
Without turning around, I continued chopping vegetables. “Silas, if you don’t want to help, then spare me your snide remarks.”
He let out a mocking snort. “Keep spoiling him. I think he’s just pretending to be pitiful to win your sympathy.”
I spun around abruptly, glaring at him. “How can you say that? Yael is your biological son!”
Unfazed, he sneered. “I’m teaching him how to grow up. Boys should face hardships—it’s how they learn to be strong. The way you coddle him will only turn him into a weak, useless failure.”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the fury rising inside me. “Silas, what Yael needs now is our understanding and support, not your coldness and criticism.”
He dismissed me with a wave. “Say whatever you want. Just don’t spoil him too much.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
