Dad’s office. I need to get out before Friday.
I called Margaret.
She answered before the first ring finished.
“What’s happened?”
I read Tyler’s messages aloud.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Margaret said, “Do not go to Harrison’s house. Do not attempt to retrieve Tyler yourself. If he believes his father is monitoring his communications, we need to act carefully.”
“He’s my son.”
“I know.”
“He’s frightened, Margaret. He’s thirteen years old, and he’s frightened.”
“I know that, too. I’m contacting the attorney handling the custody matter. We will make sure the proper authorities are involved if Tyler is in immediate danger.”
That night, I didn’t sleep.
I kept looking at the final message.
I found the original.
What original?
And why had Harrison been so certain the evidence was gone?
At 6:32 the next morning, Margaret called again.
