Page 3

Three

Quinn

I sat on the bed, gently rubbing Rosie’s head even though she had already fallen asleep. Tonight had been unnerving—to say the least—but then I had to deal with her massive meltdown on the way home from my brother’s birthday party because she wasn’t ready to leave.

I was used to always being the bad guy; it came with the territory of being a single mother. But it was hard, and some days it wore on me more than others. Today was one of those days.

My head laid against the pillow I had tucked behind me an hour ago when we first came in here, and I got her settled in for the night.

She had stopped crying and didn’t bother to tell me what a terrible parent she thought I was for making her leave tonight.

She didn’t have to, I could see it in the sadness in her eyes long after the tears dried.

Mike had texted me shortly after we left to make sure we were okay, and I wondered if Roman had said something to him.

They were best friends, so I never knew where I stood in the equation.

While Mike was my older brother and would do anything to protect me, Roman was also like a brother to me, and I trusted that he wouldn’t say anything to him if he didn’t know what was going on.

He never struck me as the kind of person to gossip or discuss something he didn’t have all of the facts about.

It was probably from his time in the Marines, but Roman was one of those people who sat silently until they decided it was time to take action.

I had replayed the night over and over in my head the entire train ride home, and long after Rosie fell asleep.

I knew that it would be hard to see some of Mike’s coworkers at the party tonight.

I hadn’t seen most of them since Justin’s funeral four years ago.

Even though I worked for the FBI, we never crossed paths, and I loved to believe that fate played an important role in that.

That maybe after everything life had given me over the years, I was finally going to be one of those people that nice things happened to.

I picked up my phone and found another text message from Mike and one from my mom. Neither of them seemed as worried as Roman, so I felt comfortable knowing that he hadn’t said anything to them.

I replied quickly, pretended that I was tired, and lied that I was calling it a night soon. Instead, I kissed Rosie’s head and quietly crawled out of her bed, making sure the nightlight was on.

I crept down the hallway, praying that the squeaky floorboards wouldn’t wake her up. I ventured into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine, stopping halfway when I remembered that I could no longer afford the luxury of being buzzed. I needed to be alert and aware at all times from now on.

With my small glass of wine, I headed into the living room and sat down, tucking my feet beneath me. I grabbed my laptop and got settled in, not sure what I was even looking for.

When I woke up this morning, I expected it to be like any other day—eat a quick breakfast, get Rosie ready for school, spill coffee on myself at least once before I got into the office, and then listen to my boss complain all day about how incompetent women were since I was the only female in our department.

The day had gone almost as expected until I picked Rosie up from school.

People were usually scattered in the pickup line on Friday, so I had parked on the street and gone in to get her.

While I was waiting for her to finish talking with her friend, one of the teachers approached me and asked if she could speak privately with me.

I had expected to hear something about how Rosie had exceeded their expectations on a project or had gone out of her way to help another student.

That was just the wonderful type of girl that she was.

Instead, she pulled me into a classroom and exchanged nervous glances with another teacher, who confirmed she would watch Rosie for me.

Once we were by ourselves, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and handed it to me.

There was a video on the screen, and my stomach sank when she pressed play.

I was nervous and anxious to see what it was since she wasn’t acting excited or happy about it.

At first, it showed kids playing on the playground, then it zoomed in to focus on the man standing across the street, leaning against a black van with dark windows.

He was of average height and build, wearing a baseball cap that hid his face and dark sunglasses covering his eyes.

Everything about him looked casual, from the way he crossed his ankle over the other to how he tapped his cigarette against the side of the van and let the ashes fall. But I knew better.

I swallowed hard before I handed her phone back to her, unable to get any words out.

Someone had been there, casing the playground. A pervert was lurking in the shadows, watching the innocent children as they ran around and played without a care in the world. MY child had been there, unaware of the danger not even fifty feet away from where she was playing.

When I finally found my voice, I asked why they didn’t call the cops when they saw the man watching the kids. Her face fell with her shoulders, and she watched the video again.

“At first, we thought that he knew Rosie because she was the only one that he was watching. But when she looked in his direction a few times and didn’t seem to recognize him, we knew that wasn’t the case. We called the police, but we’re still waiting for them to send someone out....”

Her words had gone in one ear and out the other at that point.

I was beyond furious, but I couldn’t figure out which part had me fuming the most. The fact that someone had been there watching my daughter or the fact that I wasn’t there to do anything about it.

I had to trust that she was safe at school, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like she was safe at all.