All in all, the kids were good, very well behaved. They responded well to having a new teacher, and listened to the directions I gave without having to be reminded too many times. I’d substituted other kindergarten classes before, and sometimes had to repeat myself a lot. But not with this group of kids. It only served to fuel the positive attitude I’d taken on after my conversation with Bree in the grocery store.

I was in the midst of gathering my belongings to head home when the door to my room opened. One of the ladies from the office walked in, holding the hand of a little girl from my class. “Mr. Taylor, do you mind waiting with Ayla? Her mother didn’t come to pick her up. We’ve called her, and she’s on her way. But the office is closed and I’m the last one left. I’ve waited as long as I can. She should be here soon.”

I glanced down at the little towhead and winked. “Of course. I’ll walk with her to the front of the school and wait for her. I’m sure she’ll come there first.” I grabbed my briefcase off my desk and headed out the door with Ayla at my side.

She reached out and held my hand, startling me.

“Don’t be scared. I’m sure there’s a good reason why she hasn’t come yet. She’ll be here any minute.” We walked to the end of the hall, right in front of the main doors, and took a seat on the floor.

She sat across the hall from me, her back against the wall, and I mirrored her position so that we faced each other. I had my legs out in front of me, and she did the same. It was only my first day in the class, and it takes longer than that to know all twenty kids, but Ayla stuck out to me from the beginning. She was a very smart girl, kept to herself, and finished all her work without needing to be asked twice. Normally, it’s the kids you have to constantly get after that leave a lasting impression on you, and not always a positive one…but with Ayla, just her calm temperament and quiet voice were enough to make me remember her.

Looking at her, I noticed her blond, nearly white curls that seemed almost too big for her face. She wore a barrette that pulled them back and showed off her eyes. They were the clear color of the Caribbean ocean, aqua almost. The most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even begin to tell her heritage, though. Her skin tone was light, but not porcelain; it had a slightly darker shade. She had maybe ten freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. There was no arguing that she was a cute kid. I didn’t envy her parents at all, knowing they’d have to chase the boys away from her when she got older.

Ever since Bree, I had a hard time not taking mental notes when it came to my students. I’d find myself studying their skin, checking for bruises or warning signs of abuse—more so than any normal teacher. And especially now that I taught younger children, I felt the need to watch out for them even more. I hated how Aubrey’s mother had gotten away with it for so long, and I never wanted anyone to ever have to go through that. I also had grown a lot and matured since Bree. I knew the steps I needed to follow if I ever came across another case of abuse again.

“Does this happen a lot? How often does your mommy forget to pick you up?” I asked in a calm, curious tone, hoping to gain her trust enough for her to open up to me. No matter how old they were, I always spoke to my students as if conversing with an adult. I never babied the younger ones by using a cooing tone with them. But I knew that when gaining the trust of a young child, sometimes you needed to be more on their level. Give them comfort, and they give you their trust.

Ayla shook her head. “Papa usually picks me up on Mondays. He takes me for ice cream. He says it’s our day. He’s never forgotten before.”

I assumed she must’ve been talking about her dad. From what I’d seen, joint custody could be a bitch. Every time I encountered a situation like this, where the parents are at odds and the child ends up in the middle, forgotten at school, it makes me thankful for the parents I had and the upbringing they gave me and my sister.

“I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. Maybe he’ll make it up to you next week. Who knows, you might get two scoops of ice cream next Monday.” I watched her impish grin take over her face, lighting up her every feature.

“And double gummy bears!”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh at her enthusiasm. “Yes. I’m sure he’ll let you have double gummy bears.” I crossed my ankles and noticed her do the same, mimicking me. “Do you prefer to go by Ayla, or McKayla? Or do you have another name you like better?”

“Mommy calls me Ayla. Papa calls me Buttercup. But you can call me whatever you want. Just don’t say my whole name, because that means I’m in trouble,” she whispered with her hands cupping her mouth, as if telling me a secret.

“Do you get in trouble a lot?”

“No. Not really. Mommy sometimes uses it when I don’t eat all of my carrots. But I don’t like them. So I wrap them in my napkin and throw them in the trash can. That’s when she says my whole name.”

Somehow, I no longer questioned her safety at home, and found myself enjoying our conversation. “Don’t worry, I don’t like carrots, either. The only way I can eat them is if they’re not cooked and smothered in ranch salad dressing.”

“I like that, too!” she exclaimed with wide, expressive eyes that made them shine. “But Mommy doesn’t let me pour the dressing. She says I use too much. But she never gives me enough.”

“Oh, yeah? Does she use your whole name when you pour it yourself?”

Ayla giggled, which caused her eyes to squint. “Not the whole thing. She just says, ‘McKayla Bailey! You better eat it all!’ But sometimes my tummy hurts if I have too much. She doesn’t make me eat it all. She just tells me that’s why I can’t do it myself and kisses my head.”

“You sound like you have a good mom.” The thought made me smile.

“She’s the best. And she’s beautiful like me, too.” Her cheeks turned red just before burying her face in her hands as if she’d embarrassed herself.

The words on the tip of my tongue were halted with the sound of the door opening. I glanced to my right, expecting to see Ayla’s mom, when my heart ceased to beat in my chest. The air literally stolen from my lungs. And I felt as if I’d been sucker-punched by Muhammad Ali himself.

“Mommy!” Ayla yelled from in front of me, jumping off the floor and running to the woman at the door. That’s when my world spun, the ground opened up and swallowed me whole.

Nothing made sense.

Aubrey was Ayla’s mom?

I couldn’t move from my spot on the floor, knowing even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself up and I’d fall over. Our gaze only disconnected when Ayla launched herself into Bree’s arms, but her eyes quickly found mine again.

“What are you doing here, Axel?” she asked me hesitantly, keeping her distance.

“I’m subbing here. Ayla’s teacher is in the hospital, and they don’t know if she’ll make a full recovery. I’m filling in for her class.” My words were slow and heavy as I tried to calm down and quit croaking my words out.

Her chest heaved frantically as she set Ayla back down. Panic seemed to overtake her as her hands shook and her eyes darted along the empty hallway. “We need to go.” She shook her head, exhaled, and mumbled to herself, “I can’t freaking believe this.”

Finally finding my strength, I pulled myself up to my feet with the help of the wall behind me. “Is there something wrong, Bree? Some reason why you didn’t want me to know you have a kid?” I asked, needing even the slightest bit of clarity.

“I can’t do this with you right now.”

I moved to stand directly in front of her, putting myself between her and Ayla. With a low tone, I asked, “Who’s her father?”

“A kid from high school. It doesn’t matter.”

“Is that who forgot to pick her up today?”