Chapter 4 - The Search
That weekend, I dug the class parent directory out of a drawer I'd shoved it into back in September and spent two days working down the room-parent email chain, calling every number that answered. Nobody knew a gray-haired woman in a red scarf. Nobody had ever seen her at drop-off. My chest tightened a little more with every "Sorry, no."
By Sunday night I'd convinced myself she was dangerous. Monday morning, I marched into the school office and asked to see Principal Alvarado.
"I need to see the security footage," I said, my voice shaking. "There's a woman near the gate every afternoon. She's been talking to my son."
He folded his hands. "Melissa, I understand. I'll review the cameras today and call you tonight."
I nodded, but I couldn't shake the guilt crawling up my throat, because deep down I already knew why she'd had all that time alone with him.
I was always late.
That afternoon I showed up for pickup twenty minutes early — the first time in months. I scanned the sidewalk, the crosswalk, the bench. Nothing. No red scarf. No gray hair. When Caleb climbed into the car, he looked disappointed.
"Where's the nice lady today, Mommy?"
I gripped the steering wheel. "Caleb, that lady — did she ever give you anything?"
He hesitated. "One time she gave me a butterscotch candy. When it was raining, and you were really, really late."
May you like
The word late hit me like a slap, and I snapped before I could stop myself. "Caleb, you don't take things from strangers. Ever. Do you understand me?"
His lower lip trembled. "But she's nice, Mommy. She's not a stranger," he mumbled, tears spilling down his cheeks. Waffles whined from the back seat like even he knew I'd overreacted. I pulled over, pressed my forehead to the steering wheel, and whispered an apology I wasn't sure he even heard.
