“What?
“If I tell you,” he smiled, “it won’t come as a surprise.
I crossed my arms. “You have exactly five minutes.
He started jogging into the parking lot.
Halfway, he turned around. He raised a hand. And he put that ridiculous smile that always made him forgive him for being late.
He then disappeared between two rows of parked cars.
I waited.
Five minutes became ten. Ten became twenty.
Someone finally asked, “Has anyone seen Michael?”
At first, no one worried.
I was probably helping someone.
Changing a flat tire.
Starting a car with wires.
Giving directions.
That was the obvious explanation.
Then thirty minutes passed.
The teachers searched the parking lot.
His truck was gone.
At dawn, the police had begun to ask questions.
Three days later, they found their abandoned van on a deserted rural road, nearly sixty-four kilometers away.
The keys were still in contact.
