“Henry,” says the teacher, singing his name the second time, as if that’s going to induce him to do anything at all, “it’s your turn. Are you going to show us your creation?”
I hold my breath, waiting and praying. Henry stares straight ahead as if she hasn’t spoken, and I suspected he would, but when she gives up and moves on to the next kid, I want to weep until I have no more tears left.
The kids are sent home after the presentation concludes, because St. Ignatius assumes that all of us have nannies, or don’t work in the first place. I’ve arranged for Abby, a girl from our old neighborhood, to babysit.
She meets us at the house with a bag full of art projects and ingredients for cookies. I’m grateful and at the same time I hate that I’m paying someone to do things I’d love to do with them myself.
I stall at the front door. “Don’t let them go down to the lake without you,” I tell her. “And Henry probably won’t ask you for things, so anything you give Sophie, just give him the same. And feel free to call at any time. Honestly. There’s nothing—”
She smiles reassuringly. “Lucie, they’ll be fine. I promise. Go back to work.”
I leave with Henry still unwilling to meet my eye. And why should he? I’m the one who let him count on someone who’d assured me he couldn’t be counted upon.
I get through planning the retreat for the marketing department, working fast, hoping to cut out by five and get home to Henry—fix things somehow, though I suspect only Caleb can heal this particular wound.
When Caleb texts to say he’s boarding his flight, I don’t reply. He has a company to run. He needed this meeting and he told me the deal from the start. But I have a son I didn’t want to see hurt. I’ll do my best to get over it before he lands, but right now...I’m still upset.
I send my last few emails and am just about to close my laptop when the phone rings. Caleb’s flight was cancelled. I reach for the phone with grim resignation, but it’s Abby’s name there, not his. I hit the speaker button and when I hear her crying, my stomach drops to the floor. “Abby? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Henry,” she says. “I can’t find him anywhere.”
My breath stops. “Did you ask Sophie? Maybe they’re playing a game.”
Abby wails harder. “She said she heard the back door close, but we don’t see him outside.”
For a half-second, I freeze, my body still, my hand grasping the phone. “Call the police,” I whisper. “I’m on the way.”
I grab my keys and my phone, and I run down the hall, past Kayleigh, past the small group of employees gathered out front. I call Jeremy, then Molly as I drive, running red lights, driving on the shoulder when necessary. I’m gripping the wheel so tight that my hands ache when I remove them, panicked but at the same time...numb.
This can’t be happening. It’s a mistake. I’m going to walk in and discover Henry’s hiding, that she didn’t look carefully. I’ll call his name and he’ll walk out with one of his wary smiles.
But then I pull into the driveway. The police are here. Abby’s crying.
This is happening. This is really happening.
I force myself out of the car and swing Sophie onto my hip. Her head presses to my chest, uncharacteristically silent and still. Her thumb goes into her mouth—a habit I thought she’d outgrown.
“I’m so sorry,” Abby says. “My boyfriend came over because we’d had a fight and I came outside to talk to him—”
“How long?” I demand. “How long were they out of your sight?”
“Like, maybe a half hour.”
She cries harder, and I turn away when what I want to do is scream, “I told you! I told you to keep an eye on him and you didn’t fucking listen.”
I blame her, but mostly I blame myself. This is what I get for trusting a kid with my kids. This is what I get for not being more careful.
Jeremy pulls up and reaches us just as the chief of police walks over.
“We’ve got a team combing the woods. Do you have any thoughts on where he might have tried to go? Is there a place he likes to play?”
I hang my head. “He likes to go to our neighbor’s house, but he’s out of town,” I say, pointing at Caleb’s. “If we go for walks, it’s on the path around the lake.”
My voice cracks on that last word.
The captain places a hand on my shoulder. “If he’s out there, we’ll find him. And the boat is on the way.”
I look between him and Jeremy, failing to understand this. “A boat?”
He can’t meet my eye. “So we can start dredging the lake.”
Dredging.
The second it’s out, it feels inevitable—of course he went to the lake; it’s where he would normally find Caleb—yet at the same time I refuse to accept it. I will comb every inch of this goddamn state by hand before I accept that he went into the lake without me.
“He wouldn’t,” I whisper. “He knows he’s not allowed to go in the lake without an adult.”
The chief winces. “Kids don’t always listen.”
No, they don’t. Henry also knew he wasn’t allowed to walk into the backyard without me and he does it all the time. Every single time he sees Caleb. Oh God. Could he have gone into the lake? Could he have gone to check inside Caleb’s boat and fallen in?
Molly squeezes my arm, blinking back tears. I didn’t realize she was here. “Why don’t I take Sophie inside?” she asks, reaching out. I nod, swallowing hard as I release my daughter.
I start toward the lake. “I’m going to—”
Jeremy gently grabs my arm. “They want us to stay here, Luce. We need to be available if they have questions. Here, you’re shivering.” He slips his sweatshirt over my head, and I let him. He is not the enemy anymore. Nothing matters except my children, and I can’t believe I forgot that for even a minute.
By the time night falls, the yard is full of strangers. News crews are set up along the driveway and I want to tell them to go away, but I don’t. I’m just frozen, watching the tiny bouncing dots in the distance where police and volunteers are combing the woods for my son. In an ideal world, it would be Caleb here with me instead of Jeremy, but this is exactly what he wouldn’t want anyway, isn’t it? The fear, the responsibility, the potential for loss?
Harrison and Mrs. Doherty call. I’m not sure what they say to me. I don’t want to hear a single word from anyone unless they’ve got news about my son. And with every minute that passes, the chance of it being good news fades.
Three hours later, the low murmur of the crowd is broken by a single shout.
We all look at each other. In the distance, there’s another shout and then the police chief comes into view.
There’s a bundle in his arms.
A bundle the size of a small child.
34
CALEB
I arrive in San Francisco just before eight and turn on my phone the second our wheels hit the tarmac. I wait for my texts to load as if they are a death sentence. Lucie’s mad that I missed the thing with Henry this morning, but what was I supposed to do?
I head toward the exit, torn between irritation and worry. You cannot serve two masters. My father was right. I have a company that needs me. I have hundreds of people who rely on me for the check that puts a roof over their heads, that puts food in their kids’ mouths. And I have the capacity to create something great—to build software that could change a child’s entire educational experience. I’d have loved to be at Henry’s thing. Doesn’t Lucie realize I gave something up today too?
Harrison calls just as I climb into the waiting Uber.
“Thank God,” he says when I answer. “Where are you? I’ve called a thousand times.”
“Airport. I’m on the way home. What’s up?”
His swallow is audible. “Caleb, it’s Henry. He’s missing. He disappeared this afternoon from the house.”
The driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. I blink, too shocked to find words.
“Have they—”
“They’ve done everything. But Lucie needs you. They’re… they’re dredging the lake.” He clears his throat. “She’s going to need you when they find him.”