This is Avery After Dark and I'm your host, Avery Ross.

I came across one of the scariest, most bizarre stories.

Just trust me, things are about to get really creepy. This is my missing sun.

It was Friday morning. I started my day nursing a hangover from the night before,

drinking my way through a pot of coffee and munching on toaster strudels. I had a morning

filled with Zoom meetings and was feeling thankful for the option to keep the camera off, because,

let's face it, I'm not as young as I used to be, and good Lord, does a night of drinking do some

damage. Anyway, as I was going into my last meeting before lunch, my phone rang. I silenced it

quickly and set it face down so I wouldn't be distracted. It's no good to be off cam and distracted.

After the meeting, I forgot all about the call and got up from my desk to make myself some lunch.

Just as I sat back at my desk, my phone rang again. When I picked it up,

I saw I had five miss calls, two from my husband Dylan, and three from a number I didn't recognize.

What the heck? I dropped my fork and mashed the answer button. It was the latter that was calling me

back. Hello? Hi, is this Mrs. Harding?

Who's this? I asked. This is Detective Phillips from the police department. My mind jumped to the

miss calls from Dylan. Oh no. Did something happen to him? A car accident? A shootout? My heart was

beating out of my chest. Words lodged in my throat

like a wad of wet bread. I sputtered, then asked, is my husband all right? What? The detective asked,

obviously confused. My husband, I said. Is that what you're calling about? Oh, no, ma'am. Thank goodness. I breathed. What can I do for you?

Ma'am, I'm calling because we found your son. Shock prickled through me. Excuse me? Your son, ma'am.

We found him. He turned up at the police station last night and we were able to positively identify him

this morning. My mind started spinning at the detective's words. He must have the wrong, Ms. Harding.

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