You notice it first—the way Mattheo freezes in the doorway as your son strolls past. Shoulders broader. Back straighter. Taller.

Mattheo scowls. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

Your son turns with a grin. “Problem?”

“You don’t get to be taller and steal my hair,” Mattheo snaps, eyeing the familiar tousled curls with betrayal.

“Jealous?”

Without a word, Mattheo drags over a stool, steps on it, and squints down at him. “Jealous now, punk?”

“You’re standing on furniture.”

“Power move,” Mattheo replies, dead serious.

Your son laughs, but Mattheo isn’t done. He jumps down, stalking off dramatically. “I give this family rebellion, style, a perfectly sharp jawline—and this is how I’m repaid?”

“You are the drama,” you mumble.

Mattheo points without looking back. “Exactly. And I’m keeping it that way. I will not be the short one in this house.”

Later, you catch him in the mirror, subtly checking their height again. Just to be sure.