Mia’s thrilled as her unruly son, Jack, comes back home from a weekend at Grandma’s house as a model of discipline, but his strange transformation leaves her uneasy. Mia’s determination to uncover what happened lead her to a d:angerous revelation.
Our son has always been a handful — energetic, spoiled at times, and completely uninterested in discipline. My husband and I tried everything to instill some responsibility in him, but nothing seemed to work. That’s why his transformation after just one weekend with my mother-in-law Daphne felt almost unreal.
When he came back, he was polite, helpful, and eerily calm. He washed the dishes, vacuumed, and even spent less time glued to his tablet. It was like we had gotten back a different child. At first, I was thrilled but also a little unsettled. How could a single weekend achieve what we couldn’t for years?
I couldn’t help myself — I had to know. When I asked him what happened, he was reluctant to answer. But after some prodding, he finally confessed.
“On Saturday night,” he said, “Grandma and her boyfriend were in the kitchen. They lit some candles and thought I was asleep, but I heard them talking. About you.”
He glanced at me. “They said you’d be all on your own soon. Taking care of me, working, doing the house stuff. That it might, uh, break you.”
I sat back on my heels, floored.
“I don’t want you to break, Mom,” he said quickly. “So I figured I’d help. I don’t mind, really.”
I pulled him into a hug, “You’re such a good boy, Jack. I’m proud of you. But you don’t need to carry that worry, okay? That’s my job.”
I had to know what it meant. The next morning, I drove to my MIL’s house.
Daphne answered the door with her usual smile.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“Jack overheard you this weekend. He heard you say I’d be ‘all on my own soon.’ What does that mean?”
She avoided my gaze. “He shouldn’t have heard that,” Daphne muttered.
“But he did. Why would you say that?”
She sat down slowly, “Mia… I didn’t mean for this to come out this way. But you deserve to know.”
“This… it’s a family tradition, Mia. Every man in Ethan’s family has to do it when they turn 35.”
“Do what, exactly?”, I frowned.
“It’s a rite of passage,” she said. “They go into the wilderness completely alone. No tools, no contact. Just themselves and the elements. It’s supposed to build resilience and strength, to help them find clarity.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I were,” she said quietly. “It’s been this way for generations. The men are tested,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Some d:ie out there. Others… come back changed. But it’s been done for over a century. Ethan’s known about this his entire life.”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “His birthday is in three weeks, Mia. And I’m afraid.”
The air seemed to thicken between us.
My husband Ethan was slouched on the couch when I stormed into our home. I stood in the doorway for a moment, my pulse thrumming in my ears.
“When were you going to tell me?” I asked.
He turned, startled. “Tell you what, honey?”
“About your family ritual to go play Paul Bunyan out in the wilderness!” I snarled.
The guilt in his eyes was instant. “Mia, I—”
“Don’t you dare ‘Mia’ me!” I stepped closer. “You’ve known about this… this thing your whole life, and you didn’t tell me? You just let me walk around in the dark like an idiot?”
“I didn’t want to scare you Mia”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, you didn’t want to scare me? That’s rich. You’ve been carrying this, this time bomb, and now, three weeks before it goes off, I’m supposed to just… what? Smile and wave as you march into the wilderness?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Not that simple?” My voice rose. “You’re risking your life for what? Some outdated, barbaric ritual? Do you even hear yourself?”
“It’s not just a ritual,” he snapped. “It’s who we are. It’s an expectation. If I don’t go—”
“You’ll what?” I cut him off, stepping closer. “Dishonor your family? That’s your excuse? What about your family here, Ethan? What about us?”
“You think I want to go? I’m terrified, Mia. Terrified. But this is bigger than me, bigger than us. I don’t have a choice.”
I stood there. I heard the softest sound: tiny feet shuffling on the floorboards.
“Is Dad leaving now?” Jack asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan and I froze.
I kneeled, pulling Jack close. “No, sweetheart,” I said, stroking his hair. “Dad’s not going anywhere right now. Everything’s okay.”
Ethan remained resolute, yet I couldn’t let go of my anger or fear. At night, I lay awake, imagining every horrible outcome.
Meanwhile, Jack’s helpfulness continued. He seemed so proud of himself, oblivious to the real reason for the tension in the house.
And it broke my heart.
And how could I convince Ethan to stay without destroying him?
For now, I had no answers, only a quiet, desperate hope that our family could survive this.
In the meantime, I cherished every fleeting moment together, holding on to the man I loved and the boy who was growing up far too quickly.
