Right after my husband left for his business trip, my six-year-old gripped my hand and quietly said, “Mom… we can’t go back home. This morning I heard Dad on the phone, talking about something that involves us and it didn’t sound right.” So we didn’t go back.

I nodded and smiled because smiling kept the gears of our life moving smoothly. “Of course, we will be fine here,” I replied.

Toby’s grip tightened until it hurt. Dominic crouched in front of him and placed both hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“You take care of your mother for me, all right?” Dominic said with a warm tone.

Toby did not answer him. He just nodded with an intensity that made my stomach twist into knots.

It was the kind of look you give someone when you are afraid you will never see them again. Dominic kissed Toby’s forehead and then kissed my cheek.

“Love you both,” he said before turning toward the security line.

He blended into the river of travelers without looking back once. I watched until his dark head disappeared into the crowd.

Only then did I let out a breath I had been holding for an hour. “Okay, let’s go to the car,” I said softly.

We started walking toward the parking deck as our footsteps echoed against the polished tile. The shops were closing and the flight boards flickered with final call announcements.

Toby lagged behind me and dragged his feet. “You okay, sweetie?” I asked.

He did not answer until we were almost at the glass exit doors. He stopped so suddenly that I nearly tripped over him.

“Mom,” he said.

I turned around feeling a flash of annoyance that was instantly replaced by alarm. “What is it?” I asked.

He looked up at me and the raw fear in his eyes punched the air out of my lungs. “Mom, we can’t go back home,” he whispered.

I crouched down so we were eye level. “What do you mean? It is late and we need to sleep,” I said.

He shook his head violently as tears began to pool in his eyes. “No, please, something bad is going to happen tonight,” he insisted.

A few travelers glanced our way as they passed. I gently pulled him closer to a quiet corner.

“Toby, you are safe and Daddy is just on a trip,” I tried to reassure him.

“Mom, please, this time you have to believe me,” he said with a breaking voice.

The words stung because I knew I had ignored him before. A few weeks ago, he told me about a car idling in the dark, and I had dismissed it as a neighbor.

Another time, he mentioned hearing his father talking about fixing things for good. I had told him that grown up business was not for children to worry about.

Now he was shaking in front of me and begging for his life. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice.