“Dylan, what’s wrong?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soft. “Did you feel sick at school?”

Dylan lowered his head, bit his lip, and didn’t answer. He was silent for a long time, so long that a cold dread began to creep into my heart. Then, in a trembling voice, almost a whisper, he spoke.

“Grandma, I have to tell you something.” He paused, taking a shuddering breath. “Grandma, it’s a trap. Mom tricked you.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. My hands gripped the steering wheel involuntarily. I slowed down, pulling over to a side street where the horns were quieter. “Speak, honey,” I said, forcing myself to stay calm, although inside, everything was already churning.