That accusation went into me like a knife, because it was the thing I’d feared he’d think, and I understood in that moment that I had about thirty seconds to make my son believe me or lose his trust forever.
“Tyler.” I grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me. This has nothing to do with you being gay. Nothing. I would throw a boy AND a girl in that basement if they were who I think this person is.
Two months ago. The parent group. The scammer targeting college kids. Do you remember me telling you about it?”
Tyler’s face flickered. “That’s — Mom, that’s crazy, that’s not—”
“Get my phone. My photos. I saved the warning. I saved it because you were leaving for college and I was scared. Look.”
With shaking hands, Tyler scrolled to the saved image.
The warning. The photo.
The face now shouting behind my basement door.
I watched my son’s world tilt.
“That’s… that’s not Aidan,” he said weakly. “The name says—”
“The name says Marcus. And last month a different warning called him Ryan. And before that, Devon. He uses a new name every time, sweetheart. He used a new name for you.”
“No.” Tyler’s voice broke. “No, he — we’ve been together three months, he wouldn’t—”
