Chapter 2: Max Harper

A seven-year-old boy named Max Harper.

I was dumbfounded.

I hurriedly asked the staff what was going on. “Is this a joke? I don’t have a son named Max Harper.”

“The system shows Max Harper was added to your household records last July.” The clerk’s Cleveland Browns hoodie was pilled and stretched, his fingers stained with ink from a morning spent wrestling with paperwork. He tapped at his keyboard, not meeting my eyes.

I was agitated. “What is this? How did a stranger end up on my household record?”

The clerk shrugged. “Honestly, stuff like this happens more than you’d think. The system’s a mess.” His voice was so casual I wanted to scream.

My jaw ached from grinding my teeth. I pressed my thumb into my palm, trying to ground myself. “Error? Do you have any idea how much trouble and loss your ‘error’ has caused me?” My voice echoed through the office, bouncing off the walls and making a woman in line behind me flinch. Heads turned. For a second, the whole place went quiet.

My voice was so loud, everyone turned to stare. I could feel sweat prickling on my forehead, the tightness in my chest making it hard to breathe.

I forced myself to calm down.

“I’m requesting you immediately remove Max Harper from my household record.”

“Since this involves a minor, you’ll need to provide proof of consent from the new guardian.” The clerk looked apologetic, but that did nothing to help my mood.

I was even angrier.

So someone can sneak a child onto my household record without my knowledge, but now I can’t remove him myself?

Next to the records office was the police station lobby. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as I paced, dialing my phone.

I called the police right then and there.

I handed over all my evidence and explained that this wasn’t some internal family issue.

The police told me to wait while they contacted Max Harper’s original family. I sat on the vinyl chairs, tapping my knee, glancing up at the clock every thirty seconds.

Just a few minutes felt like a lifetime.

Finally, the police said Max Harper’s parents were out of town and could only cooperate when they returned. Of course they were.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

This family was obviously dodging me on purpose.

The school registration deadline was about to close—how could I afford to wait?

My anger was boiling over. My hands shook as I shoved my papers back into my briefcase, barely able to zip it.

After leaving the police station, I immediately called a friend who worked in the local school district. We’d played basketball together since college, and I was hoping loyalty counted for something.

I refused to believe it.

I knew the kid’s name and school—how could I not find his parents?