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And while Mace’s suffering is real, Maddox probably followed his lead because their emotional states are still tightly linked. It’s common with any sibling, but with twins it will more than likely take longer for them to be able to separate their reactions.

That being said, I know I’m only going to get helpful answers from Maddox, so I focus on him.

“Can you remember when’s the last time you saw Ottie, Maddox?” He shakes his head twice and his lips start to wobble, so I hurry to ask again. “Maybe yesterday when you took a nap?” I try.

“No,” the answer comes from Tucker surprisingly. “He took it to daycare with him on Wednesday and we haven’t seen it since.” I have to look at him then—it would be rude not to—but I manage to focus only on his eyes.

Worried, soft caramel eyes that look just desperate enough to tug on every single one of my heartstrings.

“They looked everywhere there too,” Tucker adds. “The cars, his backpack, everywhere.”

I don’t want to come off as a wiseass, but I know instantly that Mason probably didn’t take Ottie with him to daycare on Wednesday, and just thinks he did.

The caretakers at what I’m guessing is a world-class daycare aren’t fools. They know to keep their attention on transitional objects always, but especially when the kids in their care are going through tough life shit.

So I nod once and look at Maddox.

“Maddox,” I start very seriously. “Can I tell you a secret?”

The boy nods, eager and instantly curious, as most kids are.

Secrets are the best when you’re a kid. They’re not something wrong or scary, but always just the pathway to an adventure.

It’s magic, truly.

“What’s this guy’s name?” I nudge the elephant with a single boop to its trumpet.

“Fanta,” he says softly, but offers up the answer so fast, I know it’s going to work.

“Well, just like you and Mace are connected, Fanta and Ottie are connected too,” I whisper as if no one else can hear. “I bet if we ask Fanta, he can help us find Ottie, what do you think?”

“Really?” There’s no skepticism, no questioning whether I’m lying, only pure wonder.

This is why I’m a teacher. This is why I love what I do.

To be around the wonder and the innocent, easy acceptance.

“I’ll show you, but do you think you can come over here with me? I know your big brother is strong, but it would be nice if he can give Mace a big hug, don’t you think?”

Maddox considers this for a moment, little mouth twisting thoughtfully, before he looks over at his twin who peeks at us with only one barely open eye, and that’s enough for Maddox it seems.

He nods then holds out his arms for me.

I risk another shared look with Tucker, but only to gesture for him to hug Mason as I take Maddox into my arms and prop him up on my hip just like Tucker was doing.

Once Mason is getting a proper bear hug, with bouncing and swaying included, I reach for Fanta. Maddox doesn’t let go of the stuffed animal as I hold him up higher so he’s right in front of our faces.

“Hi Fanta,” I say softly, then nod as if the toy answered. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

I hear Maddox gasp from next to me but don’t turn, it’s all about the performance now.

And boy do I perform.

Gasps, giggles, and commiserating groans, the whole shebang, until I finally turn to Maddox.

“He says Ottie’s in your room!” I whisper shout.

“Sunny—”