I sensed something was wrong, but didn’t press. “I’ll keep him safe,” I said, as she hugged me quickly and left without looking back.

Tommy’s presence was a joy, but Jane’s silence gnawed at me. No calls. No texts. Then I noticed odd things—my closet disturbed, perfumes moved. One night, I opened Tommy’s suitcase and froze. Inside were clothes for all seasons, extra medication, and an envelope addressed to me. Inside: cash. A lot of it. Panic surged. Jane wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

A week later, my phone rang. Jane’s voice.

“Mom, I’m safe, but I can’t come home.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t say. I’m doing this for Tommy. Please trust me.”

She promised to return. But I didn’t believe her.

Digging for Answers

Determined to understand, I searched her things. In