My 8-vear-old son has always loved to draw. We don't have much - just a small apartment, secondhand furniture, and whatever I can afford working two iobs. But I always made sure he had paper and pencils. For months, he kept drawing the same man. Every picture looked almost identical. A tall man with a red hat and a bright red shirt. No background. Just him, standing there and smiling At first, I thought it was harmless. An imaginary friend. Kids create stories when life feels small and uncertain. We've struggled financially, and I figured this was just his way of coping Sometimes he would look at the drawing and say, "Mom, one day he'll come to our house. And everything will change." would smile and kiss his forehead, teling him that it was sweet But something about the way he said it - calm, certain - made my skin prickle Then one morning, there was a knock at the door.