Two Little Secrets From My Boss

Chapter 44

The drive felt endless. Every red light, every slow driver, every pedestrian crossing the street—each obstacle amplified the terror clawing at my chest. Xander drove in tense silence, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, his jaw set like granite.

When we finally pulled into the school parking lot, I was out of the car before he'd fully stopped.

Principal Davidson met us in the lobby, her expression carefully composed. "Mr. and Mrs. Hale, thank you for coming so quickly. Please, follow me."

She led us to her office, where Nina and Lisa sat on a small couch, coloring books open in their laps. They looked up when we entered, and something in their expressions—confusion, uncertainty, a wariness I'd never seen before—made my heart crack.

"Mommy!" Nina jumped up and ran to me. I caught her, pulling her close, breathing in her familiar scent. Lisa followed more slowly, tucking herself against my side.

"Your daughters are safe," Principal Davidson said, closing the door. "But… Someone tried to pick them up." She chose words with obvious care. "A woman arrived about an hour ago with documentation claiming authorization. She was credentialed and very professional, with paperwork that looked official—emergency contact forms, a signed letter from Mrs. Hale authorizing the early release."

My blood turned to ice. "I never signed anything."

"We know. Mrs. Hale, we don’t let the kids go anywhere unless the person is their parent," Principal Davidson turned to me with something like respect in her eyes. "We have strict policies on that."

The adrenaline flooding my system began to burn, transforming fear into fury. Someone had tried to take my children. Someone had shown up with forged documents and a calm smile and almost walked out with my daughters.

"Can you describe this woman?" I asked, my voice harder now.

"Mid-forties, well-dressed, dark hair. Very composed. When our staff refused to release the children, she didn't argue or make a scene. She simply smiled, apologized for the confusion, and left," the principal paused. "It was almost like she expected to be turned away."

My stomach dropped. The description could fit a hundred women.

"Do you have security footage?"

"We're pulling it now. I'll send you copies as soon as they're available."

I looked at my girls, still pressed against my sides, their small bodies warm and solid and present. They were here, safe. The system had worked. But the unspoken truth hung in the air like smoke:

Next time might be smarter.

The drive home was quiet. I sat in the back with the girls, one hand on each of their knees, needing to touch them, to confirm their physical presence. They seemed subdued but not traumatized—more confused than frightened.

I didn't push. They needed space to process, not interrogation.

Xander caught my eye in the rearview mirror. His expression was a storm of barely contained rage and guilt and something that looked like fear. We'd talk later, after the girls were settled. Right now, what mattered was getting them home.

That night, after dinner and baths and the comforting routine of bedtime stories, I lingered in the twins' room. Nina had fallen asleep almost immediately, exhausted by the emotional upheaval of the day. But Lisa lay awake, her dark eyes watching me in the soft glow of her nightlight.

"Can't sleep, baby?" I sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing her hair back from her forehead.

"I keep thinking about the lady, the one who came to school," Lisa's voice was quiet, almost secretive. "She talked to me through the fence during recess, before she went inside."

Ice spread through my veins. "What did she say, darling?"

"She said she was a friend of Grandma's. She asked about our favorite snacks and what time Mommy usually picks us up," Lisa's brow furrowed. "She had a really nice voice, friendly, and a pretty coat—it was blue, like the sky."

"Did she tell you her name?"

Lisa shook her head. "She just smiled a lot."

I forced myself to breathe, to keep my expression neutral despite the storm raging inside me. "Did she say anything else? Anything about where she wanted to take you?"

"She said Grandma sent her to bring us somewhere special. A surprise," Lisa looked up at me with those wise, serious eyes. "But I remembered what you told us, Mommy. About not going anywhere with strangers, even if they seem nice. So I told Nina we shouldn't talk to her anymore."

"You did exactly right, baby." I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight. "You were so smart and brave."

"Mommy?" Lisa's voice was muffled against my shoulder. "Is Grandma mad at us that we didn't go with her friend? Maybe the surprise was really special, and now we ruined it."

I held her tighter, my mind racing through implications. A friend of Grandma's. Not a random stranger—someone connected to Eleanor, someone who knew enough about our family to reference the grandmother specifically.

"Grandma isn't mad at you," I said carefully. "And you didn't ruin anything. You did exactly what you were supposed to do."

I stayed with Lisa until she finally drifted off, then slipped out of the room and closed the door behind me.

Xander waited in the hallway, his expression grim. "I heard."

"A friend of Grandma's," my voice shook with barely contained rage. "That's what she told them. She approached them at recess, Xander. She was gathering information about our routines before she even tried the official pickup."

"We don't know it was my mother."

I stepped closer, my hands clenched at my sides. "The connection to 'Grandma' matches. And the way she handled being rejected—no scene, no argument, just a calm smile and an exit. That's not how a random criminal operates."

"I know what happened today was dangerous," Xander cut me off, his voice strained but firm. "Someone tried to take our daughters, and that's unforgivable. But my mother..." He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "She can be many things: manipulative and controlling, but this? Sending a stranger to abduct her own grandchildren is not what she would do."

"You can't be certain of that."

"I've known her my entire life, Daphne. She's capable of cruelty, but not this kind." His jaw tightened. "It's better if we ask her straight and see her reaction. If she's involved, you'll see it."

I wanted to argue and insist that Eleanor was capable of anything if it served her purposes. But I saw something in Xander's eyes—a genuine need to believe his mother hadn't crossed this particular line.

"Fine," I said quietly. "I'll ask her."