I didn’t like where my thoughts were going.
That evening, I tried again.
I sat on the edge of his bed, keeping my voice steady.
“Leo, talk to me. Something’s off. I can tell.”
He looked up at me.
His eyes weren’t angry or defensive, just heavy.
“I’m fine,” he said.
I nodded, though I didn’t believe him.
“Okay,” I said. “But if you’re not, you can tell me.”
He didn’t answer.
I left feeling worse than before.
By the fourth day, I couldn’t take it anymore.
I paced the living room while working, running through every possibility.
Maybe it was school.
Maybe something happened on the trip.
I was about to insist on searching his phone when mine rang, cutting off my thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Miller?”
It was Mr. Harrison, Leo’s principal and one of the trip chaperones.
My hands trembled as I braced for the worst.
“Yes?”
Mr. Harrison’s voice was careful.
“I need to speak with you about what your son did in Paris. We have a situation I couldn’t discuss over email.”
My heart pounded. This was it.
“Is he in trouble?” I asked.
There was a pause.
Mr. Harrison asked to come to the house, but didn’t sit when he arrived.
That alone told me this wasn’t small.
Leo stayed in his room while we stood in the living room.
“That last night in Paris,” the principal said, “your son wandered off.”
“When we confronted him, he refused to say where he’d gone. I thought he would’ve told you, but since he stayed secretive, I didn’t want this left out. You should know something happened.”
I sighed and sat down.
“I knew something was off. He’s been different since he got back. I thought it was a phase, but it’s not getting better.”
I hesitated, then added, “I was about to go through his phone.”
Mr. Harrison nodded slowly.
“I noticed the change too. After that last night, he stopped interacting. It was as if he left part of himself behind.”
That didn’t help; it made it worse.
“Is Leo in serious trouble?” I asked.
“No. Nothing major happened while he was gone from the group. But there still need to be consequences. We’ve assigned daily detention for two weeks.”
I exhaled.
Detention I could handle; the rest, I wasn’t sure.
“I understand. Thank you for telling me. I’ll take it from here.”
He gave me a lingering look, then left.
I stood there for a minute, then walked down the hallway.
Leo’s door was closed, so I knocked.
“Leo, I need to talk to you. Mr. Harrison was just here, and he told me you wandered off during the trip.”
There was a pause, then the door opened slowly.
My son stood there, shoulders slightly hunched.
He hesitated.
“More than three.”
I felt anger rise, but I pushed it down.
“Why?”
Leo looked away, the silence stretching between us.
Eventually, he spoke.
“I met someone.”
And just like that, my mind went where I’d been trying not to go.
An older woman trying to take advantage of him.
A long-distance connection with someone he shouldn’t have been meeting.
Someone pulling him into something bad.
Still, I kept my voice steady.
“Who did you meet?”
That didn’t help.
Leo hesitated again, as if deciding whether to trust me.
“An older man.”
That made me cringe.
I stepped closer. “Leo, I need details. Everything. You’re already getting two weeks’ detention for disappearing. If anything could lessen that, I need to know.”
At the mention of detention, his eyes widened slightly.
That seemed to push him forward.
“My group was walking near the Seine,” he began. “We stopped for a bit. Everyone was taking pictures, and I saw him sitting on a bench, staring at the water.”
He paused, replaying it.
“I don’t know why, but I went over and started talking to him in broken French, then in English. At first, it was nothing important, just where I was from and what I was doing there. Then it got deeper.”
I didn’t interrupt.
“He asked me what I wanted to do to help change the world,” Leo said. “No one’s ever asked me that before. It was as if he knew my thoughts and knew just what to say.”
I watched my son’s face as he spoke.
For the first time in days, there was something there — a connection.
“So you went back?” I asked.
Leo nodded.
“The next day. Same place. He was there again, so I kept slipping out to see him.”
“You skipped group activities just to see him?”
Another nod.
“Leo…”
“I know,” he said quickly. “I know it was wrong. I just… I’ve never felt so comfortable and seen before.”
I focused on what still didn’t add up.
Leo looked down at his hands.
“I used it to buy him food and supplies.”
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t have anyone,” Leo said. “He wasn’t visiting France. He lived there alone. He said he used to be a teacher but stopped after a car accident that took most of his memory.”
I frowned. Something about that felt familiar, like a song I almost recognized.
But I didn’t go deeper. Not yet.
“Pretty much.”
“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal. I just… felt connected and wanted to help.”
