Page 13

I bristle at the brusqueness of his words.

“Understood,” I say a little too sharply.

Is it, though? Not really. I don’t even know his real name, but he knows my daily schedule, the layout of my house, mychildren’s names and faces. The polite thing to do would be to give mesomething.

Although, when I think about it, I suppose the something is the fact that I’m still breathing.

I pull into the car rider line and inch forward between minivans and SUVs. The afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pavement, and I force myself to breathe slowly. The familiar routine soothes me. But not for long.

I see them. My girls, backpacks on, standing with a teacher near the awning. My heart swells and clenches at the same time.

The teacher walks them over, opens the door, and they climb in, both smelling like outside.

“Hi Mommy!” Kelis chirps. “Who’s that?”

I freeze. I can’t believe I didn’t think up a lie before I got here. I glance at King, who stares right back, saying nothing.

I smile tightly. “This is my cousin, King. He’s visiting from New York.”

King raises a perfect eyebrow at me, then does something I’m woefully unprepared for. He smiles.

It’s not a smirk. Not a sly grin. It’s genuine and warm, and it makes something flutter in my belly.

He just looks so unfairlygoodwhen he smiles. Like it unlocked a whole other part of his face. It softened the hard edges a little, making his eyes look brighter.

I clear my throat and face forward, pulling off once the girls are in their seatbelts.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, turning in his seat to face them. “How was school?”

Sir.

No.

Let’s not do this.

I wanna scream at him to leave them alone, but he’s just making conversation. Being polite. And maybe that’s a good thing. They don’t need to be afraid.

Besides, they both lit up like a Christmas tree when he asked.

“Good!” Rae squeals. “We had pizza today. I traded my cookie for Jackson’s applesauce. My sister drew a horse.”

“I drew a unicorn,” Kelice corrects with an eyeroll.

“Sounds like a pretty good day,” he says, voice smooth and steady.

Rae giggles. “You talk funny. Like a robot.”

He chuckles. “Maybe I am.”

They giggle harder.

And somehow, I find myself laughing softly as well. Partly because their laughter always brings me joy, but also because they clocked the robotic, monotone nature of King’s voice. I’d heard it before but couldn’t place it.

My laughter dies down, but my smile lingers. I glance over at him. He looks at me. Our eyes meet and linger just a second too long.

And there it is again. The fluttering. The tension inside me that’s dancing somewhere between fear and…something else. Something deeper. Something good. Something thatfeelsgood.

I look away first, swallowing hard.