I wanted to love this young man.
The doorbell rang around four, and Tyler practically ran to answer it, grinning in a way I hadn’t seen from him in a long time.
He walked into the kitchen with a young man beside him, introducing him with obvious pride.
“Mom, this is Aidan.”
The second I saw his face, I froze completely, the serving spoon still in my hand, my whole body suddenly cold.
Because it wasn’t the first time I’d seen that face.
Two months earlier, a warning had gone around every parent group in our county — shared hundreds of times, pinned to the top of every community page.
A young man was targeting college students. He’d pose as a fellow student, start a relationship, get access to bank accounts and financial aid and family money, drain everything he could, and vanish — often after convincing his victims to co-sign things, hand over passwords, take out loans “for us.”
He used a different name every time.
There had been a photo.
I was looking at that photo now, standing in my kitchen, holding a serving spoon, while it smiled at me and called itself Aidan and held my son’s hand.
I don’t know how long I stood there before I managed to smile and say something normal-sounding.
