My Son Told Me Not to Come on the Trip I Paid For

down before I spilled it. From him. From her. From numbers I didn’t know. Text previews about “authorization,” “locked accounts,” “arrival issue.” My heart pounded in my throat.

I hit play on the first message.

It wasn’t Trevor’s voice.

“Mr. Curtis,” a woman said, calm and clipped over airport noise, “this is – “

And the two words that came next made me continue reading …