We were in Paris, hanging out by the Eiffel Tower when my son disappeared. Emma and I went after him, for some reason my stepfather came with us but he stayed put.
I was running, not as fast as I used to and noticed that. Age caught up to me. Lost track of my son. Now there was a missing non-verbal teenager in a country where there is already a language barrier.
That moment where you think you spotted him from behind but when you got there saw it was a French kid wearing a similar shirt happened.
Fences and barriers were jumped and rolled over, stairs were climbed. There was a small place to eat at the top of one flight and my son was not there. When I turned around I saw my Wife and we each had the same look of exhaustion and horror on our faces.
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