My wife and I worked hard to retire early with comfortable savings. We even put the kids through college. Recently, my son racked up massive debt and asked us to bail him out.
I said no. He just smirked at me, “You’ll regret this.” The next morning, my DIL called me, hysterical, saying my son had left in the middle of the night and hadn’t come back. At first, I thought he just needed to blow off steam.
Maybe a night at a friend’s, or a solo road trip to cool down. But by the end of the day, when neither his wife nor I had heard from him, worry settled in. My wife, Marta, sat on the porch swing, hands gripping her tea so hard I thought the cup would shatter.
“What if something happened to him?” she whispered. “We raised him better than this,” I muttered, but the truth was—I wasn’t so sure anymore. He hadn’t been himself in years.
Ever since graduating college, he jumped from one big idea to the next, always chasing easy money. First it was real estate, then crypto, then some shady startup. He wanted success fast, without the patience to build anything slowly.
His wife, Laura, had always been steady. Hardworking. She was the kind of daughter-in-law you hope your son marries.
But lately, she looked tired. There were dark circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there before. By day three, we filed a missing person report.
Police weren’t overly concerned—he was an adult, and according to them, no signs pointed to foul play. That didn’t make us feel any better. We called friends, coworkers, even old college buddies.