I was grateful.
I didn’t have many people I could depend on.
Ivy seemed like someone who genuinely cared.
But her kindness always came with questions.
“Does Nathan ever send money for Joel?”
“Not really.”
“Is Joel still interested in swimming lessons?”
“He is, but we can’t afford them right now.”
“Are you seeing anyone, Sarah?”
I laughed tiredly.
“I barely have enough time to sleep.”
She would nod sympathetically.
Then ask another question.
Sometimes she wanted to know where Joel went after school.
Other times she asked whether he’d been happy lately.
She seemed particularly curious about whether Nathan had contacted us.
I assumed she was simply concerned.
I never imagined she might be gathering information for someone else.
Five years after Nathan left, Joel was eleven.
He’d grown into a thoughtful,
creative boy who loved building things from cardboard boxes, scraps of fabric, and anything else he could find.
That Friday, I finally agreed to let him walk home from school by himself.
It was only a ten-minute walk.
But I was nervous.
“Mom, I’m eleven,” he protested. “I can manage ten minutes.”
I smiled.
“Straight home. And send me a message when you leave school.”
“I promise.”
At 3:11 that afternoon, my phone buzzed.
Joel: On my way.
I smiled and returned to what I was doing.
Ten minutes passed.
Then fifteen.
At twenty minutes, I walked toward the window.
No Joel.
I reached for my phone.
Just then, Ivy called.
“Sarah, you need to come outside immediately.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where’s Joel? Is he okay?”
“He’s here.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Just get outside and see what your son has done!”
I ran out the front door.
Ivy stood
beside the curb looking furious.
Joel was next to her, clutching a yellow garbage bag.
His face was red, and he looked close to tears.
“Mom, I didn’t steal anything!” he blurted.
I stopped beside him.
“What happened?”
Ivy pointed at the bag.
“Your son took my belongings without permission!”
Joel shook his head desperately.
“She threw them away!”
“Joel, calm down,” I said gently. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
He swallowed.
“I saw some cardboard beside Mrs. Ivy’s garbage cans. I thought I could use it for something I’m making.”
Ivy stepped forward.
“Those were my things!”
I looked at her.
“Then let’s check what’s inside. If Joel accidentally took anything valuable, we’ll return it.”
