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His words don’t crack in the middle of my name. He doesn’t sound like he needs his nap. Mom and Dad always do, that’s how I know it’s not them.
Some days—most days—they don’t make sense. Sometimes they even stumble and fall, spilling their dinner all over the kitchen floor. They say it’s the white medicine’s fault. It turns their lips and feet heavy.
One time, I told them they needed better medicine. Mommy and Daddy laughed. I laughed with them because they don’t do it a lot. And I wanted them to keep doing it forever.
But not everyone laughed that day. My parents’ best friends and my godfathers, the three Abbot brothers, frowned. Even Finn didn’t, and he always laughed.
Wait.
At the back of the classroom, I slap my forehead.
These were the voices.
Them.
Mason, Falk, and Finn.
My bottom lip drops. My eyes open so wide it hurts.
They’re here. Not just outside in the hall. In the classroom, pushing past Miss Jones.
“Excuse me, sirs, you can’t just barge in my classroom.” My blond fourth-grade math teacher follows behind them.
“We can do whatever we want.” Finn, the younger of the three snarls at her.
His shortish black hair falls to his hazel-colored eyes. Mason usually tells him he looks messy like that. Most of the times, when he smiles, he does. Not today. His eyes shine, and his face is like a monster’s. Today he’s not messy at all.
I think he’s scary. So scary.
“We’re here to take Briar home,” he shouts. He never shouts.
Why is he shouting?
I don’t know, but when I look at Falk for answers, I lean back further into my seat. His hands are in fists like he’s about to punch someone. His green eyes are so dark as he scans my classroom.
A minute ago, I wanted to jump out of my seat. I wanted to run to Falk’s leg to hug him just to giggle when he groaned.
Now, the tall man with the short hair and bottle-green eyes terrifies me. He looks like he wants to do more damage than just punching someone’s nose.
Like he wants to tear a hole in the floor.
My godfathers are like the big family I’ve never had. All the time but today. This morning, they’re different. Creepy.
Finn still snarls at Miss Jones. He won’t be smiling today like he always does, I just know it. The way he looms over my teacher, he looks as if he’s two seconds from punching her.
As a last resort, I try Mason, the oldest of the three. The one who always makes everyone calm no matter what. Especially Daddy, his best friend from forever.
He’s here too. His neat suit is soaked from walking in the rain and snow. His icy blue eyes are squinted and angry. He has a fresh cut that bleeds across his cheek.
There’s nothing soothing about him either.
I scoot further into my chair until the wood digs into my back. I ignore the pain, focusing on them. These hurt, furious men.
Mason and Falk search for me. Their expressions terrify the rest of my classmates. The other kids either crawl under their tables or hide behind their notebooks.
It’s obvious to everyone that these three are mad. Real mad.
I have no idea why, and I don’t want to find out.
