***
The campus looked insultingly normal. Students crossed the quad with coffee cups, laughing at things that had nothing to do with my anxiety. I parked badly and hurried toward the building.
A young guy was waiting outside, a skinny college kid in a gray hoodie. Tom had planned this carefully enough to make it look calm from the outside.
“You’re Tom’s mom?” he asked the moment I approached.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“I don’t know. He just asked me to do this. I didn’t really want to get involved, but he seemed serious.” He held out a box. “He gave me your number and said I had to make sure you got this today.”
“Where is he?”
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“When did you last see my son?”
“About a week ago. Tom hasn’t been in class.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“I thought you knew,” he said softly.
That sentence hit harder than anything else so far. I didn’t know. I was already late to whatever story my son had started writing without me.
“Did he say where he was going?” I pressed.
“No. Just… he seemed sure. I gotta go. Late for class…”
I nodded, but I was already turning, hurrying back to my car. I didn’t trust myself to open the box there. Once inside, I shut the door and pulled it onto my lap.
“When did you last see my son?”
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