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“It’s not a charade. It’s just what it is.”
German looks dubious, but he holds up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say. But when the Queen Bee finds out about this, I’m not telling her shit.”
“Good. Don’t,” I tell him. “Leave her to me.”
19
RAYNE
I grab my phone out of Kirill’s car and start walking to the bus stop. It’s going to be a long night of bus transfers to get from here over to the Linleys’ neighborhood. Then I’ll need to get my car from their house without being seen by Steven or Martha.
Twelve hours ago, they were two of my favorite people. I loved working for them.
Now, I’d love to never see them again.
Then I notice the three missed calls and two voicemails from Yuliana’s preschool on my phone, and I forget who the Linleys are entirely.
“Hey, Rayne,” Melissa Holliday says. She’s the receptionist who greets everyone at the front door. She’s ridiculously bubbly, so her somber tone sends a stab of fear through my chest. “Sorry to bother you, but Yuliana is having a… well, let’s call it a hard day. We wanted to let you know that she did have to be separated from her class for the safety of the other students. Call me back when you get a chance.”
I’m frozen on the sidewalk, the phone pressed to my ear.
Yuliana was separated from her class? What does that even mean? I imagine her alone in a white, windowless room, laced up in a straitjacket, crying hysterically for her mama.
“I’m being dramatic,” I tell myself, flipping over to the other voicemail. “It’s a preschool, not a mental asylum.”
“Hey, Rayne, it’s Melissa again. So we think it would be best if you could do an early pick-up today. Yuliana’s teacher is out for the next two weeks after emergency surgery, and Yuliana is having a hard time with the transition. The substitute isn’t able to talk with her, and now, Yuliana isn’t talking to any of us. We think she’s really needing you right now.”
I check the time on the messages. Two hours ago.
For two hours, my daughter has been sitting at her school, confused and upset, needing me.
While I was with Kirill.
Guilt balloons in my chest, threatening to knock me off my feet. I quickly punch it down. There’s no time for it. Not now, at least. I have to get to Yuliana. My daughter needs me.
I’m about to hit the button to call the school back, but before I can, my phone buzzes and Natalia’s face fills my screen. It’s an old photo of her from when we first met. Her hair is purple and buzzed on one side. She keeps asking me to update it, but I refuse. Usually, the sight of it makes me smile. After the day I just had, I’m not sure I’m physically capable of a smile.
“Nat,” I rasp, clinging to my phone with both hands. “Where is she? What is going—”
“I have her. Take a breath.”
I follow her command, inhaling and exhaling slowly. The quiet allows me to hear what sounds like crying coming from Natalia’s end of the line.
“Okay,” Natalia says, her voice too even. “I wanted to call you before you had a chance to listen to whatever messages the school sent you. Obviously, I didn’t make it in time.”
“The front desk called. Yuliana was separated from her class. She needs me. Is she—Where did they—”
“Everything is fine. Yuliana is with me, and we’re both okay. Aren’t we, darling?” she says in a sweet voice, clearly talking to Yuli now.
“What happened?”
“The receptionist didn’t tell me much because I’m not a parent or guardian, but she said she’d email you the incident report.”
My shoulders sag. “There’s an incident report? That doesn’t sound good.”
“We all have hard days,” Natalia says. I hear sniffling in the background. My arms itch to hug my daughter.
“Hard days are running in the family today, I guess.”
