My son auctioned me off for $2 at his charity gala—“Who wants my boring mom?” he cracked into the microphone, and three hundred people laughed like it was part of the program. I sat under hot stage lights in a blue gown I didn’t choose, smiling the way mothers do when they’re trying not to break.

Agent Reed seemed to read my face. He sighed.

“We can let you see him,” he said slowly. “But only if we do it safely, and only if you follow my instructions.”

I nodded quickly. “What instructions?”

Agent Reed’s voice became very clear, like a teacher explaining simple rules.

“One,” he said, “do not be alone with him. Two, do not promise him anything. Three, if he asks you a question, answer it with as few words as possible. Four, if he tries to scare you, you look at me, not at him.”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

“And one more thing,” he added. “If you feel too overwhelmed, you say, ‘I need a break,’ and we stop.”

I nodded again.

The female agent opened the door and we walked into the hallway. Two officers stood there. I could hear distant shouting from the ballroom, but it was muffled now.

We walked down the hall to another room.

When the door opened, I saw Jason sitting at a table. His tuxedo jacket was off now. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His hair was messy. For a second, he looked like a little boy again.

Then he saw me and his face changed.

Not relief. Not love.

Anger.

He stood up fast. “Mom,” he said, “what did you tell them?”

My breath caught.

That was his first question. Not are you okay. Not I am sorry.

What did you tell them?

Agent Reed stepped beside me. “Jason,” he said, “sit down.”

Jason ignored him and stared at me. “Mom,” he said again, “answer me.”

My hands shook, but I forced myself to stand tall. “I told them the truth,” I said quietly.

Jason’s eyes widened. “What truth?” he hissed. “You do not even know what the truth is.”

Then he lowered his voice and leaned toward me like he was about to whisper something private, something that would pull me back into his spell.

“Mom,” he said, “listen to me. This is bigger than you think. If you talk, you will ruin everything. You will ruin me.”

I swallowed. “You already ruined me,” I said.

His face snapped. “Do not be dramatic,” he said. “That was a joke on stage. People loved it. It raised money.”

“It did not raise money,” I said. “It raised laughter at my pain.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Agent Reed, then back at me.

“Mom,” he said, “I do not have time for feelings. You need to help me. You need to tell them you signed everything willingly. You need to say you handled the money too, so they know you were involved. That way, we can negotiate.”

My stomach lurched.

So he did want to blame me.

He said it like a plan, like it was normal.

I stared at him, stunned.

“You want me to say I did it?” I whispered.

Jason rolled his eyes like I was slow. “Not did it,” he said. “Just involved. It spreads the responsibility. It helps me.”