Page 103

Well, almost.

At some point in the middle of the night, I could’ve sworn I saw a shadow standing near the bedroom door. It was tall and broad, shaped too much like a man to dismiss immediately, but by the time I blinked and pushed myself up enough to get a better look, it was gone.

I eventually convinced myself it was the oversized armchair near the window casting a shadow across the floorboards. That was my explanation, and I was sticking to it. Because I was not about to start seeing ghosts in a house I had just gotten comfortable living in.

“Mommy!”

I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath.

Here we go.

“Mommy!”

“Yes, Kaidence?”

“Where’s my lucky coin Grandma gave me? I can’t leave without that!”

I closed my eyes.

Henrietta had given him the little gold-toned coin the night before, telling him it was for good luck on his first day back at school. One side had a four-leaf clover engraved into it, and ever since she handed it to him, he’d been treating it like some sacred family treasure.

“Did you put it in your backpack like I told you?”

“Yes, but I can’t find it!”

“Check the little front pocket.”

“I did!”

“Check it again, Kaidence.”

A few seconds of suspicious silence passed.

Then his little voice floated down the stairs. “I found it!”

“Where was it?”

Another pause.

“In the little front pocket.”

Of course it was.

It was Kaidence’s first day at his new elementary school, and apparently, he had decided to make the morning as difficult as humanly possible.

The school transfer had been an absolute headache—enrollment forms, immunization records, proof of residence, old school records, phone calls, signatures, and enough paperwork to make me question whether I was registering my child for kindergarten or applying for a government clearance. It was a whole mountain of administrative bullshit I hadn’t felt like dealing with on top of everything else.

I had hated pulling my son out of his old school back in Ravenport. He’d only been there about five weeks, but that was plenty of time for Kaidence to get comfortable. He had already made a few little friends, loved his teachers, and settled into a daily routine he knew by heart. Hell, he’d been asking about his old classmates since the day we left.

I had expected tears, complaints… maybe a little five-year-old attitude about having to start somewhere new where he didn’t know a soul. Instead, Kaidence had been excited from the second I told him he was getting a new classroom.

Me?

Not so much.

I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I had uprooted our entire existence in the span of a week. He was just worried about whether the playground had the tall slide.

Must be nice.