PART 2
Tyler came up from the kitchen with three glasses of lemonade and found his mother standing in front of the locked basement door, phone in hand, talking to a 911 dispatcher.
“Mom?” His face went from confused to horrified in about two seconds. “Mom, what are you — where’s Aidan?”
“Tyler, sit down. Please.”
“Where is he? What did you do?”
From behind the basement door, a voice — Aidan’s, but different now, harder — called out: “Tyler? Tyler, your mom’s insane, she locked me down here, get me out—”
“Mom, unlock the door!” Tyler was frantic. “This is — I knew you’d find some reason, I knew it, you said you were fine with it but you’re not, you locked my boyfriend in the—”
That accusation went into me like a knife, because it was the thing I’d feared he’d think, and I understood in that moment that I had about thirty seconds to make my son believe me or lose his trust forever.
“Tyler.” I grabbed his shoulders. “Look at me. This has nothing to do with you being gay. Nothing. I would throw a boy AND a girl in that basement if they were who I think this person is.
Two months ago. The parent group. The scammer targeting college kids. Do you remember me telling you about it?”
Tyler’s face flickered. “That’s — Mom, that’s crazy, that’s not—”
“Get my phone. My photos. I saved the warning. I saved it because you were leaving for college and I was scared. Look.”
With shaking hands, Tyler scrolled to the saved image.
The warning. The photo.
The face now shouting behind my basement door.
I watched my son’s world tilt.
“That’s… that’s not Aidan,” he said weakly. “The name says—”
“The name says Marcus. And last month a different warning called him Ryan. And before that, Devon. He uses a new name every time, sweetheart. He used a new name for you.”
“No.” Tyler’s voice broke. “No, he — we’ve been together three months, he wouldn’t—”
“Tyler.” I made my voice as gentle as I could with a 911 operator still on the line. “Has he asked you for anything? Money? Passwords? Has he asked you to co-sign anything, or add him to anything, or take out any kind of loan?”
The silence that followed was the worst silence of my life.
Because my son’s face crumpled.
“He said—” Tyler’s voice was tiny now. “He said his financial aid fell through. He asked if I’d… if I’d add him to my account, just temporarily, so his mom could send money somewhere safe. I was going to do it this week. I have the forms in my bag.”
The forms were in his bag.
We’d been one week away.
