Maxine.
“Bye, Mommy. I love you!” my daughter, Maxine, called out as she hopped out of the car, her backpack bouncing against her small frame.
“I love you too, honey. Have fun at school!” I replied, watching her join the group of kids heading into the building.
As I drove away from the school, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled over me this morning. Maxine had seemed unusually quiet during breakfast, and now this strange sense of sadness held unto me like a shadow. Shaking it off, I focused on the road.
Pulling into the driveway, I glanced at the rearview mirror out of habit. My heart nearly stopped. Maxine was sitting in the back seat, smiling at me. But how could that be? I had just dropped her off at school.
“Max?” I whispered, my voice shaky. I slowly turned around, expecting to see her sitting there, but the back seat was empty.
The silence in the car was haunting. I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. My hands trembled as I gripped the steering wheel. I pulled over, my breath coming in short gasps. I needed to get out, to clear my head.
I got out of the car and leaned against the door, trying to steady myself and breathe in the fresh air. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I’d just seen. Had I imagined it? Was I losing my mind? I could feel my heart pounding heavily in my chest.
Just then, my phone rang. It was Maxine’s class teacher.
“He--llo?” I answered, my voice shaky.
“Hi, Mrs Caulfield. I just wanted to check in because Maxine didn’t show up at school today. Is everything alright?”
My blood ran cold.
