When my ex swung our daughter’s backpack over his shoulder, something small tumbled out. I totally freaked out when I saw it — my daughter shouldn’t have had that! They were already driving away, so I did the only thing a mother could do: I followed them.
Zoey picked at her oatmeal like it might bite back. Her eyes looked glassy, and she was unusually pale and quiet. She used to look forward to her ‘Father-Daughter’ weekends with Jason.
Ever since the divorce, it had become their special time. But she’d started acting strangely recently, and I couldn’t help but feel that something had happened during one of their weekend camping trips. She didn’t answer.
“Zoey?” I kept my voice gentle. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“It’s fine,” she mumbled.
“It doesn’t seem fine,” I pressed. “Did… did something happen during one of your trips with your dad?”
The second I asked it, her whole body went rigid. She pushed back from the table and ran from the kitchen.
Her door slammed upstairs a few minutes later. ***
Jason arrived early with a big smile on his face. At least he was looking forward to that weekend.
“Where’s my girl?” he asked, stepping inside. “Upstairs. Jason, there’s something off with her.
She’s been acting strangely, and she doesn’t look well. Did something happen on one of your camping trips?”
“It seems like more than that.”
He waved his hand like he was dismissing a fly. “Don’t worry.
I’ll talk to her.”
Something in his tone made my chest tighten. Jason didn’t usually brush off things I brought up about Zoey. “Jason—” I started, but he was already turning toward the stairs.
“Zoey! Come on, bud! We’re going to miss the good trail!” He called up toward her room.
“Let’s go!”
Jason scooped up her backpack, which Zoey had placed near the door last night. He swung it up onto his shoulder so fast that something flew out of the side pocket. “See you on Sunday, Rachel,” he called cheerfully as he hurried after Zoey.
“Wait,” I called, crouching down to retrieve the fallen object from under the armchair. But Jason’s footsteps continued moving away, across the porch, and down the steps. My fingers found a slender, hard object.
I slid it out from under the armchair. The sound of Jason’s truck starting snapped me out of my shock. I ran to the front door and leaped down the steps.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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