As parents, we’d always believed in our son. He was the perfect child—brilliant, and destined for greatness.
So when we sent him off to college with thousands of dollars for tuition, we never questioned his progress. Until the day we found out he had been lying to us all along.
From the moment Jason was born, he was our pride and joy. Growing up, he wasn’t just “our son”; he was the son every family in the neighborhood admired. He excelled at everything he touched.
Straight A’s? Easy. Captain of the basketball team? Of course. And his charm? It was magnetic. Parents would nudge their kids, saying, “Be more like Jason.” He was handsome, polite, and ambitious. At least, that’s what we thought.
For as long as I can remember, Jason always had a soft spot for animals
If a stray cat wandered into the yard, it was Jason who would sneak it milk. When our dog, Max, got sick, Jason stayed up all night by his side, even though he was only eight.
“Mom, I want to help animals when I grow up,” he said once, eyes gleaming as he watched Max wag his tail weakly.
“I want to be like Uncle Tom,” he insisted.