“Mark, I—” I fall into a silent frustration as things I want to say rush through my head. Tears spring to my eyes and all I can manage is a quiet “Fuck!” before hanging up.
“Lottie, what’s wrong?” Mika asks as I rush toward the lockers.
“Liam is sitting at home,” I say as I grab my purse, my hands shaking. “Alone.”
“What? Why? Wasn’t he with Mark today?”
“He was, yes. Now, he’s not and now I have to get home before—” I can’t even bring myself to say it out loud.
I can’t even think it.
I grab my purse and rush out onto the diner floor as the entrance bell chimes and a large group walks in, headed straight for my section.
“Fuck.”
“Go,” Mika says. “I’ll cover your tables.”
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes. Go,” she says. “Tish and I can handle lunch. I’ll tell Bruno what’s up. Go!”
I bolt outside, ignoring every horrible thought that enters my head as I run across the town square. I smother every terrible image of what could be happening to my son right now. I push them all away, but they’re instantly replaced with every negative thought I’ve ever had about myself.
I’m stupid.
I’m unworthy.
I’m an awful mother.
By the time I reach my house on Third Street, my face is covered in tears.
“Liam!” I scream on the porch, searching my purse for my keys. With shaking hands, I manage to unlock the front door. “Liam!”
No answer.
I search every room. The kitchen. The bedrooms.
“Liam!”
The bathroom.
The backyard.
The closets.
“Liam!”
I stumble into the hallway and bump into something hard. With a scream, I lurch backward against my bedroom door , my heart wrecked with fear.
“Whoa, whoa!” Scott says, his hands raised. “Calm down. It’s just me.”
I push him away. There’s no time for this asshole. “Move!”
“Wait a sec?—”
“My son is missing!”
“I know!” he says. “I have him.”