The morning Daniel disappeared started like any other ordinary weekday in their quiet neighborhood.
Sarah watched her sixteen-year-old son standing in the hallway, tying his sneakers with practiced efficiency.
His backpack hung off one shoulder in that casual way teenagers carry their things, as if he was already mentally halfway to school.
“Did you finish that history assignment?” Sarah called from the kitchen where she was preparing breakfast.
“Yes, Mom,” Daniel replied, grabbing his favorite jacket from the coat hook.
He leaned down to kiss her cheek quickly, flashing the easy smile he always wore when he was running a bit late.
“See you tonight,” he said cheerfully.
The front door closed with its familiar sound.
Sarah moved to the living room window and watched Daniel walk down their tree-lined street, his shoulders hunched slightly against the cool morning air.
That was the last normal moment she would have with her son for nearly a year.
When evening arrived and Daniel hadn’t come home, Sarah initially convinced herself there was a reasonable explanation.
