But the truth was, my daughter had never acted that distant with anyone before, not even Donald after the divorce.
I had different excuses.
***
A few nights later, after Ryan left, Ava stood quietly in my bedroom doorway, twisting the sleeve of her hoodie while I folded laundry. I immediately became uneasy.
“Mom,” she said softly, “please don’t let him move in.”
I stopped folding towels and sighed.
“Ava, you barely know him.”
“I know enough.”
The way she said it made me wary.
“What does that mean?”
She looked down at the floor.
“Ava, you barely know him.”
For a second, I thought my daughter was finally going to explain why she disliked him so much.
Instead, Ava shook her head and walked away before I could stop her.
I remember sitting there afterward, feeling irritated more than concerned.
I told myself she was jealous or missed the way things used to be.
I didn’t realize she was already carrying around fears she didn’t know how to explain.
A week later, Ava disappeared. She didn’t come home from school.
She disliked him so much.
***
At first, I thought she was trying to upset me.
That she’d gone to a friend’s house without warning me to punish me.
So when six o’clock came, and she still wasn’t home, I tried not to panic.
But by eight, I’d called her several times, my calls going straight to voicemail, and I texted every parent in my contacts.
By 10, I was driving through town, checking places she usually frequented with friends.
Nobody had seen her.
***
The following morning, Ava’s school counselor called, asking why she’d missed first period.
That was the moment fear finally settled into my chest.
I thought she was trying to upset me.
***
The next seven days felt unreal.
