My instincts churn and I roll my fists in anger, ready to kill him. “Where is he?!”

“He’s fine,” Scott says. “He’s at my house across the street. He’s safe.”

A touch of relief washes over me. “He is?” I ask weakly.

Scott places his hands on my shoulders, holding my focus. “He’s sitting in my kitchen right now with my daughter eating lunch.”

“He is?” I ask again, unable to say anything else.

“You can come over and see for yourself,” Scott says calmly, his hands a strong and comforting anchor on my trembling body.

I make no effort to hold back my tears. “He’s okay?”

“He’s okay,” Scott whispers. “Take a breath.”

It’s a struggle to fill my lungs, but I manage a few breaths. My hands continue shaking with adrenaline and I fight the urge to collapse altogether.

“Everything is all right.” Scott rubs my upper arms; a soothing motion. “Come on. I’ll take you to him.”

Still too rattled to walk, I tilt forward into him instead. Scott wraps his arms around me and I find myself pulled into a firm embrace, one of surprising tenderness I haven’t felt in... so long.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his hand splayed against my back. “He’s safe.”

I let the words settle in my mind and a calming sense grows in me. “Thank you,” I whisper back.

“You’re welcome,” Scott says as he steps back. His hands linger on my arms for another moment before they fall. I instantly miss them; his borrowed strength. “Now, dry your eyes. I’ll take you to him.”

I wipe my cheeks quickly, finding my fingers covered in mascara. I realize it blotched on his sweater too, and I wince. “Sorry,” I say.

He glances at it briefly. “Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m a dad. I’m used to it.”

Another deep, soothing breath and I nod, ready to go. “Okay,” I say, standing on my own.

“First…” Scott glances around. “Do our houses have the same layout?”

“Uh… yeah,” I say. “All these Third Street bungalows were built by the same… company or whatever.”

“Ah.” He nods as he cranes his neck to peek over my shoulder… into my bedroom. “Weird.”

I grab the knob and swing the door closed behind me. “I’d like to see my son now, please.”

Scott leads me across the street to his house. Before I even step inside, I hear my son’s laughter. Following it, I pause in the kitchen doorway, a smile instantly finding me as I see him and Sonya sitting at the table, safe and sound.

“He said he liked ham, so...” Scott says beside me.

I nod. “He does, yeah.”

“It’s Sonya’s favorite, too, so I had plenty to go around.”

Liam looks up at me. “Hi, Mommy!”

My heart sings. “Hi, honey.”

He goes back to his sandwich and coloring book as if nothing is wrong.

As if I didn’t just have the worst moment of my life.

Satisfied, I step back into the living room and Scott follows. “Thank you,” I say to him. “I’m sorry you even had to do this.”