All of that had been bothering me for days. And now Robert was taking me somewhere without telling me where.
We boarded an intercity bus. I asked again,
“Where are we going?”
“Just be patient.”
“Do the kids know about this?”
He looked out the window.
“Yes.”
That one word was enough to make my stomach tighten. About an hour later, I realized we were leaving the city.
“Robert, I’m serious now. What is happening?”
He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he took my hand. His hand was cold. He looked directly at me and said,
“Mary, after today, you’ll never see your children again.”
For a second, I thought I had misheard him.
“What did you just say?”
He squeezed my hand.
“Please. Don’t ask me any questions until we get there.”
I pulled my hand away.
“You just told me I’m never going to see my children again, and now you’re asking me not to ask questions?”
