My Son’s Warning at the Airport Changed Everything
“Kenzo, baby, listen to me. You’re safe. Daddy’s just on a trip. Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“Mama, please,” he said, his voice breaking. “This time you have to believe me.”
This time.
The words stung because they were deserved.
A few weeks earlier, he’d told me about a dark car parked in front of our Buckhead house late at night. I’d brushed it off. Another time, he mentioned hearing his dad talking in his office about “fixing things for good.” I’d told him grown-up conversations weren’t for kids.
Now he was shaking in front of me, begging.
I took a breath. “Okay,” I said quietly. “Tell me what you heard.”
