Then his eyes filled.
“One of the men opened the back door.”
My stomach turned.
“He pulled Caleb out.”
I gripped my son’s hand.
Owen continued.
“Dad started shouting. They made him get out too.”
His breathing quickened.
I stopped him.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell us everything tonight.”
He shook his head.
“I want to.”
He looked at me.
“I want you to know we didn’t leave you.”
My heart shattered.
“Oh, Owen.”
He began crying.
“We wanted to come home.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
“I know.”
He sobbed against me.
“I tried.”
I held him tighter.
“I know, baby.”
***
When he could speak again, Owen told us the men had driven them to an isolated property.
He remembered a long dirt road.
A metal gate.
Buildings with no signs.
The boys were separated from Ben.
For months, they were kept in rooms with barred windows.
