Emily hasn’t been in class all week,” her teacher told me. That made no sense — I watched my daughter leave every morning. So I followed her.

When she stepped off the bus and got into a pickup truck instead of going inside, my heart stopped.

When the truck pulled away, I drove after them.

I never thought I’d be the kind of mother who follows her child, but when I discovered she’d been lying to me, that’s exactly what I did.

Emily is 14. Her dad, Mark, and I split up years ago.

He’s the guy who remembers your favorite ice cream but forgets to sign permission slips or book appointments. Mark is all heart but no organization, and I couldn’t carry it all by myself anymore.

I thought Emily had adjusted well.

But the terrible teens have a way of bringing problems to the surface.

Emily seemed like her usual self.

She was a bit quieter, maybe a little more glued to her phone than usual, a bit overly fond of wearing oversized hoodies that covered half her face, but nothing that screamed “crisis.”

She left for school every morning at 7:30 a.m. Her grades were good, and when I asked how school was going, she always said it was fine.

Then I got a phone call from the school.

I answered right away. I assumed she had a fever or forgot her gym shoes.

“This is Mrs.

Carter, Emily’s homeroom teacher.

I wanted to check in because Emily has been absent all week.”

I almost laughed; it was just so out of character for my Emily.

“That can’t be right.” I pushed back from my desk. “She leaves the house every morning.

I watch her walk out the door.”

There was a long, heavy beat of silence.

“No,” Mrs. Carter said.

“She hasn’t been in any of her classes since Monday.”

I hung up the phone and sat there.

My daughter had been pretending to go to school all week… where had she really been going?

When Emily came home that evening, I was waiting for her.

“How was school, Em?” I asked.

“The usual,” she replied. “I got a whole ton of math homework, and History is so boring.”

“And what about your friends?”

She stiffened.

“Em?”

Emily rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “What is this?

The Spanish Inquisition?”

She stomped off to her room, and I watched her go.

She’d been lying for four days, so I figured a direct confrontation would just make her dig a deeper hole.