I Discovered My Missing Son Was Adopted by Another Woman — Story of the Day

My son vanished under mysterious circumstances two years ago. It was a story filled with unanswered questions. Recently, while on a business trip in a different city, I stumbled upon him on the street. This encounter only added new layers to the already bewildering mystery of his disappearance.

I gripped the cold steering wheel, my mind racing. “Home is where you make it,” I murmured, but the comfort it once provided was long gone.

I was on a business trip in a new city, trying to make this place my home, but somehow, I couldn’t do it. I knew I couldn’t. Home is where your loved ones are. And I was all alone. I would never have a home.

Lost in my thoughts, I drove by a school, and it was then I spotted a boy with curly blonde hair. “Arnold?” My heart skipped a beat. He looked just like my missing son, but it couldn’t be, could it?

I couldn’t resist; I followed the yellow school bus the boy got on. The bus zigzagged through the streets, and I trailed behind, driven by a mother’s desperate hope.

“It’s been two years, Arnold. Two years with no sign of you,” I whispered, the painful memory of his disappearance haunting me.

Two years ago, we had to start a new life in witness protection after I testified against a dangerous man — my ex-employer for whom I worked as an accountant. My husband was his driver, and when we were offered to enter the program, James refused because he was too loyal to his boss.

I knew that the program could ensure a good life for my son and me, so James and I went our separate ways.

Adjusting to our new lives under witness protection was tough. Arnold missed his father, and we lived a life of secrets, barely talking about our past.

One day, as I neared home from work, excited to see Arnold, I spotted a menacing figure by my neighbor’s fence. Recognizing him as a threat from our past, I knew they had found us. Panic set in as I raced home, praying Arnold was safe.

Breathlessly entering our house through the backdoor, I shouted, “Arnold! Pack up, now!”

“Mom? What’s happening?” he asked, confused.

“No time to explain,” I urged, tossing him his backpack. “We’ve got to get out of here.”