I’d always thought of our lives as quiet, predictable. In our small town of Maple Glen, drama belonged on television, not on our doorstep. My son, Lucas, was 15, an introvert who preferred sketching in his notebook to playing video games. I worked part-time at the local library. We had a routine, and I liked it that way.
It was a steamy Saturday in July when everything shifted. The community pool had opened for the season, and my sister had invited us to join her and her kids for an afternoon swim. Lucas wasn’t thrilled, but after some coaxing,
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