The paper crumpled in my trembling hands as the words on the page blurred through my tears. I sank into a student chair in the empty classroom, the cold reality of my son’s neat handwriting piercing straight through the fog of my grief.

“Mom, I knew this letter would come to you if something happened to me. You need to know the truth. THE TRUTH ABOUT MY FATHER AND WHAT HAS BEEN GOING ON THESE PAST YEARS…

Dad isn’t who you think he is. For the last two years, he hasn’t been taking me to a cottage with his friends. He’s been taking me to meeting points near the border. He owes a lot of money to dangerous people, Mom. Last month, I found passports with different names and tickets to a country without extradition hidden in his golf bag.

part2