I never imagined I’d be the kind of parent who trails her child, but once I realized she’d been lying, that’s exactly what I did. Emily is 14. Her dad, Mark, and I separated years ago.
He’s the type who remembers your favorite ice cream flavor but forgets to sign permission slips or schedule dentist appointments. Mark has a big heart but zero organization, and I couldn’t carry everything alone anymore. I thought Emily had handled the divorce well.
But adolescence has a way of stirring up what you think is settled. On the surface, Emily seemed fine. She was a little quieter, maybe more attached to her phone, a bit obsessed with oversized hoodies that swallowed half her face — but nothing that screamed “emergency.”
She left for school every morning at 7:30 a.m.
Her grades were solid, and whenever I asked how school was, she always said it was fine. I picked up immediately. I assumed she had a fever or forgot her gym clothes.
“This is Mrs. Carter, Emily’s homeroom teacher. I wanted to check in because Emily has been absent all week.”
I almost laughed — it was so unlike my Emily.
“That can’t be right.” I pushed my chair back. “She leaves the house every morning. I watch her walk out the door.”
There was a heavy pause.
“No,” Mrs. Carter said. “She hasn’t been in any of her classes since Monday.”
“Monday… okay.
Thank you for telling me. I’ll talk to her.”
I ended the call and just sat there. My daughter had been pretending to go to school all week… so where had she actually been?
When Emily came home that afternoon, I was waiting. “How was school, Em?” I asked casually. “The usual,” she said.
“I got a whole ton of math homework, and History is so boring.”
“And what about your friends?”
She stiffened. “Em?”
Emily rolled her eyes and groaned. “What is this?
The Spanish Inquisition?”
She stomped to her bedroom, and I watched her disappear down the hallway. She’d lied for four days straight, so confronting her head-on would probably just push her deeper. I needed another tactic.
I watched her walk down the driveway. Then I sprinted to my car. I parked a little ways from the bus stop and watched her board the bus.
So far, nothing unusual. I followed the bus. When it wheezed to a stop in front of the high school, a flood of teenagers poured out.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
TAP → NEXT PAGE → 👇
