The ride to pick up Evie was a solid thirty minutes north. Her school started the year earlier than most, and today was only her second day. I pulled up to the school, parked exactly where I remembered being told, and walked to where the kids were dismissed. My eyes were trained on the door, waiting for Evie.
I couldn’t afford to mess this up, not with everything else hanging over my head. If I screwed this up, I’d be the one getting the blame, and I was tired of always being the one who dropped the ball. I made sure to remember exactly which door to go to, where to park, and even what backpack Evie was wearing that morning. Every detail was locked in place.
On the drive up, I could’ve broken down, let everything get to me, but I didn’t. I kept going because I needed a plan. That’s all I had to hold onto—come up with a plan, keep it together. One thing at a time.
The school was an old brick building, with ivy creeping up the sides. I stood in front of door 3C. Parents were starting to gather in small clusters, chatting idly while they waited.
I was out of place. Most of the other parents were older, dressed in business casual or comfortable work clothes, while Istood there, definitely the youngest of the bunch, in my sweats. Some glanced my way, probably wondering who I was waiting for, but I didn’t pay much attention. I just kept my eyes on that door, focusing on making sure I didn’t screw this up. Evie would be out any second, and I couldn’t afford to let my mind wander.
Finally, the bell rang, and I hadn’t realized what a mad dash dismissal would be. I stood there, waiting and waiting, but there was no sign of Evie. No curly blonde hair bouncing toward me. No sparkly unicorn backpack bobbing in the crowd of kids. Nothing. The anxiety crept up my spine, tightening my chest with each passing second.
Not today. Please, not today.
I kept glancing at the door, expecting her to come out any moment, but as more kids trickled out, the crowd started thinning. My pulse quickened.
Where is she?
It was definitely not my day. The pressure that had been building all afternoon swelled into panic, but I tried to keep it together, tried to remind myself there had to be an explanation.
Panic turned into action. I rushed inside the building, desperate to find someone who could tell me where she was. The front office, a teacher—anyone.
My mind was going a mile a minute.
I was frantic as I pushed open the office door, ringing the bell at the front desk. Someone had to know where?—
“Whoa.” Someone with a voice laced with honey, soft and velvety, asked, “Is everything alright?” The hint of a Southern accent immediately cut through the chaos in my mind.
I looked up, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. The person speaking was breathtaking. She had long, wavy golden blonde hair that framed her face perfectly. Her lips were thick and plush, the kind that seemed to naturally fall into a soft smile, and her large amber eyes were striking.She was wearing a T-shirt that read something about being a kindergarten wrangler and a pair of fitted khaki pants.
I was shocked, completely stunned, and for a split second, I forgot why I was there. Forgot everything. Until it all rushed back, and the only word I could manage to blurt out was “Evie.”
She nodded a few times as if somehow my single word was a whole sentence. “Alright. She’s gotta be here somewhere.”
I hadn’t been completely taken aback by someone in a long time—years, maybe. There was something about her presence, in the warmth, that froze me.
“Thank you . . .”
Ms. Honey. I wanted to finish, and tell her she reminded me of honey, but I’d been able to hold back. She held the door open for me, her smile never faltering.
“Hi, Sue. I ran into this gentleman outside, and it appears he is missing his child?—”
“My sister.”
Ms. Honey turned toward me and smiled, then turned back to the lady she was talking to.
“He’s missing his sister.” She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.
“What classroom is she in, sir?”
I pulled out the note where I’d written all the instructions and focused on it. That was when I noticed the slight tremble in my fingers.
Not now.
The shakes were back, and my anxiety was close to spiraling because I’d have to discern if they were from not drinking or the anxiety.
Ms. Honey reached down and held my hand where I was clutching the paper. “May I?”
I looked up and nodded again. She plucked the paper from my hand and read it a few times. “It looks like Evie Cole is in Ms.Samuels’s classroom this year, which is next to mine. It’s down the hallway.”
