The first thing I noticed wasn’t the jacket.

It was my son’s eyes.

Every other child ran off the school bus laughing, waving souvenirs, and talking over one another.

Liam walked down the steps alone.

His shoulders were hunched.

His hands were buried inside the pockets of a navy-blue jacket that was at least two sizes too big.

It wasn’t his.

“Did you have fun?” I asked.

He nodded without looking at me.

The teacher smiled.

“He was just exhausted from the trip.”

Then I reached for his backpack.

It felt unusually heavy.

“Did you bring home rocks again?” I joked.

Liam grabbed the bag so quickly it startled me.

“No.”

His voice cracked.

“Please don’t open it here.”

My stomach tightened.

On the drive home he didn’t look out the window.

He didn’t ask for his favorite snack.

He didn’t even turn on the radio.

When we pulled into the driveway, he whispered,

“Can we lock the front door?”

“We always lock it.”

“I mean… all of them.”

I did.

Inside the house, he sat silently on the couch, still clutching the backpack.

Finally I knelt beside him.

“Liam…”

“You can tell me anything.”

Tears filled his eyes.

“I wasn’t supposed to bring it home.”

“What?”

“The notebook.”

My heartbeat quickened.

“What notebook?”

He slowly unzipped the backpack.

Hidden beneath his lunchbox was a small red notebook with a torn cover.

Across the front, written in black marker, were four words that made my blood run cold.

“If I disappear, read this.”

To be continued…