#Chapter 57: Sunshine and Shadows

DEREK Something was wrong. Aiden hadn’t come down the slide. I was already halfway to the base of the water slide when the thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My eyes scanned the splash pool—half a dozen children flailing joyfully in the turquoise water—but none of them were mine. No copper curls. No green swim trunks. No grin wide enough to split the sky. I glanced up the stairs. A line of kids waited their turn, inching forward beneath the shaded metal awning, water glistening on their skin. But Aiden wasn’t there either. My chest tightened. He wasn’t at the top. He wasn’t at the bottom. He wasn’t on the slide. The rational part of me tried to slow my thoughts—he probably just ducked off to the bathroom, or saw something shiny at the snack stand. But I knew better. I knew my son. And something in the air had shifted. I spun in place, turning toward the edge of the pool deck, searching for lifeguards, for employees in polo shirts, for anything or anyone who co