Page 6 of Stabby Little

“Hey.” My voice is clinical. Cold. “How's school?”

Miles graduates from high school next month. He turned eighteen three months ago and though he got into trouble with drugs last year, he made the honor roll. He's grown up before my eyes.

Just like Ollie would've if no one had taken him.

“Fine,” Miles says. “I had a trig exam last week I fucked up. But I should be able to sweep Mrs. Ainsley's room for extra credit.”

My attempts to continue the conversation fall flat. I know this is my son and he needs me, but I can't put up this façade.

Not now.

Not when life is dark enough as it fucking is.

“Dad?” Concern tinges Miles's voice. “Are you there?”

I set my glass of scotch down. “I'm here, buddy. Congratulations on graduating.”

A silence permeates the call.

“Is it Ollie?” Miles asks at last.

“Yes.”

“It's been seven years, Dad.” Miles's voice falls. “If we haven't found him by now, we likely won't.”

Miles knows my mental state during the annual anniversary of Ollie's disappearance.

I clench my fists. “I have new leads. The Attorney General of New York wants to reopen his case. The Miami FBI field office received a report that they saw him near South Beach.”

“You need to move on. This is why Mom left. You're obsessed.”

Four years ago, my wife Linda told me she'd had enough. She was sick of Ollie's disappearance taking over my life.

She tore down the computer-generated images that projected what he'd look like in a few years and cut the red yarn I used to connect pieces of his case.

She told me I needed to see a professional.

I pick up my liquor. “I promised that boy I wouldn't abandon him. I refuse to break that promise.”

“Dad—”

I snap my phone shut.

Rage bubbles up inside me at my family's ability to move on so easily. They're not as invested in this as I am and they don't care about Ollie.

I refuse to give up.

No matter what my family says.

No matter how they treat me.

My phone buzzes again. I have no desire to speak to Miles. If it's him, I'll ignore his call.

When I pick it up, I see it's my boss.

Michael Diavolo:I need you to finish a job for me

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