I CAME HOME TO A COP HOLDING MY TODDLER—AND MY HEART DROPPED

“This your son?” He nodded at the sleepy-eyed toddler resting against his shoulder.

I swallowed hard. “Yes. That’s Noah.”

“He was outside alone.”

I felt like I had been punched. “What?”

“Neighbor called it in,” he continued. “Said they saw a little boy wandering near the street. I got here, found him sitting on your front steps crying. No one answered the door.”

I looked at my house, my front door wide open. My stomach turned. I had locked it this morning before work. I was sure of it.

Micah.

My mind raced. Had he left the door open? Did he forget to watch Noah? Or—

Had someone else been in my house?

I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling. I dialed Micah’s number. It rang, and rang—then went to voicemail.

I turned to the officer. “I have a seventeen-year-old son. He was supposed to be watching Noah.”