“Oh, thank God!” she cried.
She was on us quickly, a tornado of weak apologies and lame excuses. She then threw her arms around the boy, enveloping him in a big, one-sided hug. It looked forced, awkward. I chalked it up to a frantic mother reuniting with her moody son. The same son she thought had vanished forever.
Eventually though, ‘Mom’s’ luck ran out. She crossed paths with the wrong someone. Someone who knew what was up. Someone smart enough to pick up a damn phone.
They arrested her later that night.
They found the boy’s body two days later.
The Weekday One Hundred 