My throat went dry.
Brenda was not on the emergency contact list.
She had lied to the school, and somehow she’d said it with enough confidence that someone let my son walk out the door with her.
By the time I hung up, my hands were shaking so hard I nearly dropped the phone.
I called Brenda once, then again, then again after that.
Each call went to voicemail.
I texted Mark, typed and deleted six different versions of what had happened, and finally sent the ugliest one: YOUR MOTHER TOOK LEO FROM SCHOOL.
CALL ME NOW.
While I waited, I stood at the front window and watched the driveway like I could force her car to appear.
My mind kept racing through possibilities.
Car accident.
Hospital.
Kidnapping.
Some bizarre misunderstanding.
Every scenario ended with Leo scared, and every second without an answer made me sicker.
The truth was, Brenda had been circling this moment for months.
