As a mother, your instincts never really sleep. They are always alert, always scanning, always ready to protect your child — no matter their age. I’m fifty years old, happily married to my husband, Nathan, and we live a quiet, comfortable life in the suburbs. Our days are simple: work, family dinners, occasional weekend outings. But one evening in late spring, my quiet routine shattered in the most unexpected way. Our only son, Xavier, who is 22 and finishing…
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