My son took a deep breath.
“She’s been working with the stage crew for the school play.”
I blinked.
“The school play?”
He nodded.
“She’s helping with costumes.”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“For three weeks,” he said. “She’s been doing it for three weeks, and I had no idea.”
I turned toward him.
“She wasn’t supposed to be there?”
“She told me she was attending art club.”
His voice trembled with frustration.
“Yesterday, I went to pick her up early because she had an appointment. She wasn’t in the art room.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Nobody knew where she was?”
“The art club supervisor didn’t. I spent twenty minutes trying to find her.”
He looked at Noah.
“Do you understand what those twenty minutes felt like?”
My son lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
Michael’s expression softened for a moment, then tightened again.
