“We caught him cheating during a quiz,” she said. “He looked… lost.”
That word—lost—stuck in my mind like static. It was as if everything in me froze, because lost wasn’t my son. Mason was careful. Thoughtful. The kind of kid who double-checked his work. The kind of kid who blushed when he didn’t get an A.
That night, I tried calling again. No answer. I left another voicemail. I waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing. My heart sank.
I called Eddie, trying to stay calm, not accusatory, but concerned. I had to know what was going on.
