And Stella’s been standing in the middle of it, smiling and teaching vowels like she isn’t the bait.
I turn and head back toward her classroom with purpose. I need her eyes on this. I need her prepared. I need her understanding what we’re dealing with— I stop short.
The classroom door is open.
Kids are still inside, but the energy has shifted. A teaching aide—Ms. Rina—stands at Stella’s desk with a confused look, scanning the room like she misplaced something important.
Stella isn’t at the front.
She isn’t at her desk.
She isn’t anywhere.
My blood goes cold.
I step into the doorway. “Where is she?”
Ms. Rina looks up, startled. “Oh—Mr. Sinclair. She just… she stepped out.”
My voice stays calm, because panic gets people killed. “Stepped out where?”
Ms. Rina gestures vaguely. “She said she needed to speak to Principal Hanover again. She looked—” She frowns. “Focused. Like she had her mind made up.”
My stomach drops hard.
I didn’t know.
I was on the call.
I wasn’t watching the hallway.
I wasn’t?—
The kids chatter on the rug, oblivious. Levi raises his hand like we’re in the middle of math.
“MR. SINCLAIR,” he whispers loudly, “WHERE’D MS. HART GO?”
My jaw clenches.
I force my face into something neutral. “I’ll go find her, buddy.”
I look back at Ms. Rina, voice low. “How long ago?”
“Maybe… two minutes?” she says quickly, reading my tone. “I didn’t think?—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in, though it’s not. “Keep them in the room. Door closed. Don’t open it for anyone but me.”
Her eyes widen. “Okay.”
I step back into the hallway, already moving.
Principal’s office is down the hall, past the trophy case, around the corner.
Two minutes is an eternity.
And Stella is walking into a closed room with a man who might be involved in something bigger than a stolen grant.
My phone is in my hand as I stride fast, calling Wyatt as I go, jaw clenched so hard it aches.
