The teacher looks at Lily. “Honey, are you okay?”
Lily finally pulls her hand free from Rachel’s, steps toward me, and presses into my side.
Something in the teacher’s expression hardens.
“Ma’am,” she says to Rachel, “I’m going to need you to step back.”
Rachel’s mask slips. Humiliation, disbelief, and anger war across her face.
She looks down at Lily and the sweetness returns, brittle around the edges now. “Baby, you don’t have to be scared. I’m your mom.”
Lily says nothing. She only squeezes my hand harder.
My heart feels like someone took it out of my chest and closed a fist around it.
Rachel’s eyes lift to mine.
The softness is gone.
What’s left is much more honest.
The teacher gestures toward the entrance. Another staff member has appeared in the doorway, watching. A few parents nearby are pretending not to stare.
She smooths a hand down the front of her coat as if this is all beneath her.
“Fine,” she says. “If that’s how you want to play it.”
She turns as though she’s about to walk away. Then pauses beside me.
She leans in just enough that only I can hear her.
“When he’s done with you,” she murmurs, voice like silk over a blade, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Then she straightens, puts her sunglasses back on, and walks away across the parking lot like she didn’t just try to take her child against the agreed plan.
I don’t breathe properly again until her car pulls out.
The teacher says something about the office wanting a quick note made of the incident, about calling Jaxon, about whether Lily needs a moment inside.
I answer because I have to. Because adults are talking to me and paperwork and procedures matter.
But part of me is entirely focused on the little girl glued to my side.
“Can we go home now?” Lily asks in a very small voice.
I look down at her.
Her crown is still crooked. One shoelace is still untied. Her eyes are too wide, her mouth trying so hard not to wobble.
And something fierce and absolute surges through me.
“Yes,” I say immediately. “We can go home.”
30
JAXON
How Dare She?