For months, my 15-year-old son had been growing distant. His once-open demeanor had faded into silence, his laughter replaced by an unreadable expression. I had convinced myself that it was just adolescence, that this was a phase. But something in my gut whispered otherwise.

That night, as I tidied up the house, I noticed his backpack slumped in the corner. An unshakable worry gripped me, and before I could talk myself out of it, I opened it.

Inside, neatly tucked away, was a package of diapers.

I froze. My mind flooded with questions, each more unsettling than the last. Why would my teenage son need diapers? Was he hiding something? Was he in trouble?

Sleep was impossible that night. I turned the possibilities over in my mind, each theory leading to more doubt, more fear. Confronting him outright might push him further away, so I made a decision—one that would change everything.

The next day, I followed him.

Chapter 1: A Mother’s Unease

The changes had been gradual at first—missed conversations, distant eyes, moments of hesitation when I asked simple questions. I had dismissed them as growing pains. Now, faced with evidence of something deeper, I realized I had been blind to a hidden part of my son’s life.

As I watched him that morning, I noted every movement—his careful glance over his shoulder, the way he clutched his backpack a little tighter. Something was weighing on him.

When school ended, I followed him.

His route was deliberate, leading me away from familiar neighborhoods into an unfamiliar part of town. With every step, the tension in my chest grew. What was he hiding? Where was he going?

Chapter 2: The Run-Down House

He stopped in front of an old, neglected house. The paint was peeling, the garden overgrown. It looked abandoned, yet he produced a key from his pocket and slipped inside.

I hesitated, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. What could possibly be inside? Who had given him that key?

A part of me wanted to turn back, to convince myself that this wasn’t my place. But I had already come too far.

I stepped closer.

Then, just as I reached the door, a voice from inside sent chills down my spine.

“You shouldn’t be here.”