The rain had been tapping on the window all afternoon, a steady sound that made the apartment feel even smaller. I sat on the living room floor with my knees pulled up, trying to fix the bent wheel of my toy car. It was one of the only toys I had left that still worked—well, sort of.
Mom was in the kitchen, talking on the phone. She kept her voice low, but the words still slipped out in pieces: "payment… papers… he won't be any trouble." I didn't know who she was talking to, but her voice had that tight, careful sound she used when she was lying to someone.
Then someone knocked. Not a friendly knock either—three sharp raps, like they already knew we were inside.
Mom froze for a second before walking to the door. She didn't even look at me, just smoothed her hair and opened it. Two men stood there. The first one had a clipboard and a smile that didn't reach his eyes. The other just… stared. His coat was still wet from the rain, and he looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't care if you froze to death on the sidewalk.
The smiling man crouched down to my level.
"Hey, Ryan," he said, like we'd met before. "How would you like to go somewhere fun?"
I looked at Mom. She was still standing by the doorframe, chewing the inside of her cheek. "Will you come too?" I asked.
Her eyes flicked away from mine. "It's just for a while," she said, but her voice cracked like she didn't believe it herself.
The man in the dark coat stepped closer and put his hand on my shoulder. It was heavy. Cold. I dropped my car without meaning to—it hit the floor with a hollow clack, but Mom didn't bend to pick it up.
There was some paper signing, an envelope changing hands. I didn't understand any of it, except that my stomach had gone tight and sour.
When the man guided me out the door, I twisted to look back at Mom one last time. She'd turned away, her shoulders shaking like she might be crying—but she didn't call my name.
The van outside was black and windowless on the inside. Two other kids were already sitting there, silent, staring down at the floor.
The doors shut. The engine started. And that's when I realized:
I wasn't going home.