Clyde heard the slamming, the cursing, and the crying. In all his thirteen years of life, he had never imagined his mom could get this upset. She had lost something—and Clyde knew exactly what it was. He knew because she hadn’t lost it at all. Clyde had taken it. He had intended to give it back, but something had gone wrong, and now everything had gone wrong.
“Son?” It was his dad tapping at his bedroom door, equally worried and scared. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” Clyde said, even though he meant the opposite.
The door opened. “Son, have you seen your mom’s…”