Page 32

L ater that day, the sky was overcast as I pulled into the school parking lot.

The presidential announcement was still rattling through my mind.

The line of parents in the pickup line stretched farther than usual, cars idling, faces drawn with confusion and fear.

Teachers and staff rushed to hand out papers, calling out names, ushering kids into vehicles as if we were evacuating for a hurricane rather than just going home.

But this was a storm. Just a different kind.

Violet was the first to spot me. Her tiny frame seemed even smaller under her huge backpack, which sagged with hastily packed folders and books.

She wasn’t smiling. Her mouth was pinched tight, and her eyes were glassy as they darted around.

I knew she was trying to make sense of the senseless chaos her school had erupted into.

Liam trailed behind her, earbuds tangled in his hand, face pale and distant. He didn’t even try to act cool like he usually did. Just climbed into the passenger seat silently while Violet buckled into the back.

"Hey, guys," I said as I put the truck into drive. "How was school? "

“Scary,” Violet said without hesitation. “They made us clean everything. They said we weren’t coming back for a long time. Like, weeks.”

Liam snorted, a bitter sound for someone so young. “They said maybe after winter break, but they were lying. Mr. Caldwell looked really freaked out. He kept staring at his phone during class.”

I glanced at them through the rearview mirror and kept my voice calm. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll do school from home for a while. Your teachers will send stuff online, and I’ll help where I can.”

Violet looked like she might cry. “But I don’t want to stay home. What about art class? And Mrs. Ortega said we might not have our recital.”

I felt my chest tighten. I wanted to fix it. To promise them this was temporary… but I knew better. I’d lived through this pandemic once already.

“I know it sucks, sweetheart,” I said. “But we’ll make the best of it, okay? We’ll do projects at home. I’ll set up a space just for you guys to work. You’ll still talk to your friends. You’ll see.”

Liam scoffed, not mean, just tired. “Dad, it’s not going to be the same. They’re saying people are dying. Mom’s pregnant. What if she gets sick?”

That blasted the wind right out of me. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and chose my words carefully. “She is being careful. We are all going to be careful. That’s why they’re sending everyone home… to keep you and her safe. To give the hospitals a chance to catch up.”

Violet sniffled. “Will we get to see you?”

I glanced at her through the mirror again. Her eyes looked so big, full of questions no kid should have to ask.

“I'm not going anywhere," I said. "I live as the golem in the guest room, remember? "

A small chuckle from the kids and then no one spoke for awhile.

I looked at their faces in the rearview: scared, uncertain, on the edge of something they didn't understand yet. I knew I had to hold it together, even if the world outside was cracking apart. This was just the beginning. But the kids had me now. And I’d be damned if I let them go through this alone.

As we turned down the winding road toward home, my phone buzzed against the console. I reached for it at a stop sign, glancing down at the screen.

Hey, I’m stuck at work. We’re short-staffed and slammed. Can you help the kids with their assignments and dinner tonight? I might not be home until late.

I stared at the message for a beat longer than I needed to. She must not have seen the announcement, too caught up in the clinic. I didn't want to cause more stress for her.

The weight of everything, the shutdown, the fear in the kids’ eyes, Sloane throwing herself right back into her job settled in my chest like wet cement. I should have felt burdened or overwhelmed, but honestly? I welcomed the responsibility. I needed it.

Of course. I’ve got them covered. Don’t worry about a thing. Just get through your shift.

She didn’t respond right away, but I imagined her in that cramped breakroom at the clinic, rubbing the bridge of her nose, exhausted and overworked, trying to shield her growing nausea from coworkers who probably hadn’t even heard the news in full yet.

She was carrying more than I could fathom, and this time, I refused to let her carry it alone .

I put the phone down and glanced at the kids. Violet had her forehead pressed to the window, watching the wind jostle the trees. Liam was scrolling through his phone, but his eyes were glossed over as if he wasn't really seeing anything.

“Change of plans,” I said and I injected warmth into my voice. “You guys are with me tonight. Mom’s stuck at work. How does burgers sound?”

Violet perked up slightly. “What about gluten-free pizza? Can we build a pillow fort? Can Rufus sleep with us?”

Liam gave me a sidelong glance. “Do you even know how to make burgers? Or are we ordering pizza?”

I grinned. “Watch it, boy. You’re about to witness greatness in the kitchen. I might even break out the garlic bread for our buns.”

That earned a small smile from both of them. A flicker of light in all the uncertainty.

As we pulled into the driveway, Rufus barked with excitement through the window by the front door. I stepped out into the cool, heavy air and helped the kids get their stuff inside. Rufus immediately shoved his nose into Violet’s hand, then circled Liam before trotting up to me with a snort.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, rubbing behind his ears. “I know. It’s going to be a long night.”

Inside, I started pulling out the meat while the kids unpacked their school bags at the kitchen table. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or exactly how long this would all last… but tonight, I had this moment.

Sloane had trusted me. The kids needed me. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be .

The kids were in the living room, half-watching cartoons with plates of half-eaten burgers in their laps when my phone vibrated on the counter: an unknown number. I stared at it, heart stuttering in my chest.

I dried my hands on a dish towel, the scent of lemon soap still clinging to my skin, and stepped out onto the porch. The late evening air had cooled, but it did nothing to stop the burn crawling up my neck.

“Hello?” I answered, cautious.

The voice on the other end was low and clipped, the kind that didn’t waste time. “Mr. Shaw? Detective Harlan.”

My stomach tightened. The air suddenly felt like it was pressing down on me. “Yeah. Speaking.”

“We believe we have enough evidence to move forward on Angie Collins.”

I didn’t speak. I should’ve felt relieved, grateful even… but instead, a slow, sour twist settled in my gut. Like hearing the gun cock before the trigger’s pulled. My throat tightened. “What kind of evidence?”

“We’ve connected the threatening notes to her handwriting,” he continued. “The home footage, your wife’s witness statements, and now we’ve got a neighbor’s Ring camera that shows her casing your property multiple times. It’s enough to push for a warrant.”

My mouth went dry. I stared out at the quiet street, the comforting hum of crickets suddenly hollow.

The detective continued, oblivious to the rising discomfort in my silence.

“We’re finalizing the paperwork, but I wanted to give you a heads-up.

When we move on her, it could get loud. We don’t know how she’ll react.

Based on her behavior so far, we've seen that she's been erratic and obsessive. This may not be clean. ”

I exhaled sharply through my nose. “So, what does that mean for us?”

“It means keep your doors locked. Keep the kids close. And don’t let your wife be alone, if you can help it.”

There it was, the dread. I felt bile creep up my throat, burning my chest.

I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “That’s going to be difficult. Sloane works.”

There was a pause before a measured response. “Then inform her supervisor. Have them keep an eye out. Let the workplace know to contact the police if anything unusual happens: strangers lurking, phone calls, a woman showing up uninvited. This isn’t paranoia, Mr. Shaw. It’s precaution.”

“Yeah, you're right. Precaution. Thank you, detective.”

“You've got a family, Mr. Shaw. The goal is to keep everyone safe. We’ll do our part. You do yours.”

I thanked him and hung up, standing still on the porch for a long moment.

Across the quiet street, a single car sat idling, lights off. It could’ve been nothing. Could’ve been a neighbor. But I knew better than to dismiss anything now.

The door creaked open behind me. Violet’s voice, soft, “Daddy?”

I turned, quickly pasting on a calm expression. “Yeah, baby girl?”

“Can Rufus sleep in my room tonight? I feel... weird.”

I glanced down and saw Rufus already pressed against her side like a shadow. He was alert, ears twitching.

“Yeah, of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “Rufus is on night duty.”

She smiled, then vanished back into the house .

I stood on the porch a moment longer. The night felt… swollen, expanded, as if it were holding its breath. Somewhere out there, Angie was watching. Waiting.

But so was I. And this time, I wasn’t anything like the Old Me who ran from consequences or responsibilities. I was a man who protected his family.

Even if it meant burying a few bodies.