Where is he? Where’s my beloved child with his father’s blue eyes and a halo of golden curls? My little boy is out there on his own. Please keep him safe, I silently beg, please, please just keep him safe.

‘Your son is missing,’ they say, and life as I know it is over. ‘Where would he go?’ the police ask. ‘Where would he be?’ my daughter begs.

My heart races as images flash in my mind. The cabin we rent every autumn, surrounded by fiery red maple trees. Voices raised. Tears falling. A marriage falling apart. And worst of all my husband telling our child, Theo, to run.

The rest is a blank in my memory. If I close my eyes I can almost see it. A betrayal that has left me alone, in tatters, grieving for what we had.

It wasn’t meant to be like that. It should have been precious time as a family, with boardgames, walks in the mountain and pancakes for breakfast.

Instead my little one is has vanished. ‘They are looking for him,’ the nurse told me, ‘but the storm is slowing down the search.’

The police think Theo has the answers, that he knows what tore our family apart. But I have no idea where he is. No clue if he is safe. I won’t survive unless I bring him home. But if I do, and the truth comes out, will I survive that?

Bring Him Home

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