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Rick shook his head. “I’m not sure. Mark said to me today, ‘Dad, we do our best to adjust, and make friends, but we can’t let these kids step on our toes.’”
Startled, she set down her glass too quickly, and it sloshed on the countertop. “Oh God, they’re not happy at school.”
“It’s only been a week. Time will tell.”
“Rick, you can’t just wait. If they don’t like their schools, there are many others.”
“This is the neighborhood school. You can’t ask for a better one. Their classmates live around us.”
“Talk to them.”
“If they had problems, they would tell me. My boys are fighters. They don’t give up easily. I have to respect their efforts.”
She sighed. “Whatever you say.”
“I have to leave now. Call me please.” He looked like he needed more reassurance than his sons.
He kissed her briefly and left.
Madison called him from the crew lounge to say goodbye and texted when she arrived in Paris. He texted that all was quiet at home.
Two days later, she returned from her strenuous flight to shower, eat, and finally collapsed on her bed. A persistent ring woke her from her deep slumber. She didn’t recognize the number and didn’t answer. The ring stopped and started again. When she let it ring, it went to her voicemail. “Ms. Madison, please answer.”
Oh God, it was a kid’s voice. “Yes, who—”
“It’s Mark Lambert.” She could hardly hear the hushed voice. “We need you, Ms. Madison. Please come.”
“What happened, Mark? Aren’t you in school now?”
“I’m hiding in the bushes in the yard,” he murmured. “Two boys attacked Michael. He fell. I hit them, and they fell. A teacher grabbed the three. I ran away, hid, and called Dad. He can’t come right away. I said I would call you. He said it was a good idea. It’s not our fault, Ms. Madison. Please come.”
“I’m coming. Why don’t you go to the principal’s office?”
“No, I have to stay out and find a way to save Michael.” His father’s son, he wouldn’t abandon his younger brother.
“Okay, buddy, I’ll be with you in twenty minutes. We’ll save Michael together.”
She wouldn’t hesitate. Rick’s children needed her. Besides, the two boys had won her heart from the moment she’d met them. She jumped out of bed, donned a pair of pants and a blouse, and grabbed her handbag. As she ran to the elevator, her phone rang. It was Rick.
“Madison, my boys are in trouble. Can you help?”
“I’m on my way. Mark already called me. You need to send a written authorization to the school to allow me to act on your behalf.”
“Right away. I can’t thank you enough for helping us.”
“Don’t worry. Bye now.”
In the underground garage, she started her car and drove out. She knew the school and managed to reach it in fifteenminutes. The gate would probably be locked during class time.
She parked her car on the street and walked to the door, pressing the call button on the digital box. “I’m Madison Howell. Mark Lambert called me, saying he needed help. Can I meet with the principal?”
“Just a moment, Ms. Howell.”
The principal came on the line. “Yes, Ms. Howell. I’m Dr. Sayers, the school principal. Do you know where Mark is?”
“No. He called me saying he was hiding and that his brother, Michael, had been hurt by two boys.”
“Ms. Howell, are you a relative of the boys?”
