Under emergency contacts, in Darnell’s handwriting, was my name, my number. And then below that: Renee, aunt, with a cell number I did not recognize. I wrote it down in my phone. The assistant principal was kind about it.

She didn’t make me feel crazy. She said she could pull the sign-out log if I wanted to see it, and I said yes.

I actually had to sit down when I saw it. Not dramatically, I just needed to sit. There’s a little bench right there by the main office and I sat on it and went through the pages she printed for me. Fridays. Eight of them since September. Early dismissal pickups, all signed out before lunch, all on Fridays that fell on Darnell’s custody weekends. Every single one. The name on the sign-out line was Renee, with that same phone number. The school had her on the list so they let her take him. Why wouldn’t they. She was on the form.

I want to be fair here and say that I sat with this for a minute before I let myself react because I know I can jump to conclusions sometimes. I thought maybe Darnell had a girlfriend, maybe things had gotten serious and he wanted her around Marcus and just hadn’t told me yet. That would be annoying, that would be something we needed to talk about, but it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Except that is not what this was. Because if that was all it was, you don’t hide it. You don’t put someone down as an aunt. You don’t pull a kid out of school eight times without telling his grandmother, who is also his primary guardian, where he’s going.

I texted Darnell on my way to my car. I kept it simple.

I said the school called about a form and I had some questions. He read it, I could see the little checkmark, and he didn’t respond for three hours. Three hours. I know he had his phone. He always has his phone.

That night I made hot chocolate. I always make it when I want Marcus to feel comfortable because he’s been drinking it since he was little and it sort of signals to him that we’re just going to sit and talk, nothing scary. I don’t know if it actually works or if I’m fooling myself but it’s the thing I do. I put extra marshmallows in his because he likes them, and I sat across from him at the kitchen table and I asked him how his Fridays had been lately.