Chapter 3

Sarah's anxiety began to infect the entire room. The cheerful dinner party atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a thick, uncomfortable tension. She couldn't sit still, repeatedly getting up to check her phone, her movements jerky and agitated.

"He should have been done by now," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "Even if the study group ran late, he would have called."

My dad tried to reassure her. "Sarah, kids these days are glued to their phones, but sometimes they do forget. I'm sure he's fine. He's a responsible young man."

The words felt like a lie, and I had to look down at my plate to hide my expression. Responsible. Liam was the furthest thing from it.

My mom went to Sarah's side, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Mark is right. Let's not jump to conclusions. Why don't you try calling one of his friends? Maybe they know something."

It was a good suggestion, and for a moment, a flicker of hope appeared in Sarah's eyes. She nodded and quickly dialed the number of Liam's best friend, Alex. The call went to voicemail. Her face fell again.

"He's not answering either," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Something is wrong. I can feel it."

The fragile calm that my parents had tried to build shattered completely. The party was effectively over. Mark stood up, his own face now etched with concern.

"Alright, that's it," he said, his voice firm. "We're going to go look for him. He can't have gone far. We'll check the campus library first."

"I'll drive," my dad immediately offered, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door.

"We'll all go," my mom added, her expression resolute.

Suddenly, everyone was in motion. Plates were left half-eaten on the table. The cheerful facade of the evening had crumbled, revealing the raw panic underneath. We were no longer two families having a pleasant dinner; we were a search party, united by a common fear.

I stood there, frozen in the middle of the chaos, a silent spectator to the panic Liam had caused. I knew where he was. I knew he was safe. I knew he was with Olivia, his phone off, completely oblivious to the storm he had unleashed at home.

The urge to scream the truth was overwhelming. He's not at the library! He's lying to all of you! He's with another girl!

But I looked at Sarah's face, twisted with terror, and the words died in my throat. The truth would stop her worrying, yes, but it would replace that worry with a different, more devastating kind of pain. The pain of betrayal, not from a girlfriend, but from her own son. I wasn't sure she could handle that. Not tonight.

So I said nothing. I just followed them out the door and into the cool night air, my silence a heavy, bitter weight in my stomach. We were going on a search for a boy who wasn't lost, a charade orchestrated by his own selfishness, and I was a complicit actor in the play.