“Ma’am,” he said, calmly. “Please.”
“Don’t ‘please’ me. Just tell me if my son is okay.”
He paused. “You’ll have answers soon. I promise.”
My phone buzzed. A text from Mark: “Mom, please don’t freak out. Just trust us.”
Trust us. After four hours of silence.
I typed back. “WHERE ARE YOU?”
Delivered, but not read.
“Are they in danger?”
I stared at the back of the officer’s head. “You know my kid.”
He didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly, “Yes, ma’am.”
My heart lurched. “Are they in danger?”
