Jonah was supposed to be gone for one weekend.
That was the agreement.
Every other Friday, I would drop him off, and every Sunday evening he would come back home. It wasn’t always easy co-parenting after the divorce, but we had a routine, and Jonah deserved stability.
At least, that’s what I thought.
On Friday afternoon, everything seemed normal. Jonah hugged me goodbye, climbed into the car, and waved through the window as they drove away.
I had no idea it would be the last time I’d see him for weeks.
By Saturday afternoon, something felt wrong.
I tried calling Jonah’s tablet to say goodnight. No answer.
I sent a message.
Nothing.
