Sometimes he stayed late at school to play guitar with friends, or he dragged himself to the park to pass the time until the evening.
He always texted me when he did that, but maybe his phone was out of battery.
I told myself this while I was preparing dinner, while I was eating alone, while I was washing the dishes and leaving his plate in the oven.
But when the sun went down and his room was still empty, I could no longer ignore the feeling that something was wrong.
I called him. He went straight to voicemail.
At ten o’clock, I was driving around the neighborhood looking for him.
At midnight, I was at a police station to report her missing.
The officer asked questions, took notes, and finally told me, “Sometimes teenagers leave for a couple of days. Arguments with their parents, things like that.”