He sounded happy. Light. Free. And I wanted to believe that meant he was okay.
Then the calls started slowing down. The texts became infrequent. Conversations shrank to one-word replies.
That’s when I started hearing from someone else—his teachers.
One emailed me about missing homework.
“He said he forgot, Claire. But that’s not like him.”
Another teacher called during her lunch break, speaking between bites of what I imagined was her sandwich.
“He seems disconnected. Like he’s here, but not really… Is everything okay at home?”
Then came the worst call—from his math teacher.
“We caught him cheating during a quiz. That’s not typical behavior. I just thought you should know… he looked lost.”
That word stuck to me like static.
Not rebellious. Not difficult. Lost.
It landed heavily in my chest because that wasn’t my Mason. He’d always been thoughtful and careful—the type of kid who double-checked his assignments and blushed if he didn’t get an A.Continue reading…
