Chapter Three

When my alarm went off, ripping me from a dream, it was 4 a.m., much earlier than I usually got up. With inspection day here, I needed to make sure everything was perfect. The better we did, the more funds we'd have, and I was really needing some new art supplies, which Jonathan said weren't quite in the budget. If I nailed this, perhaps I could squeeze them out of him. We'd see. I wasn't holding my breath.

I tried to pull the dream back into focus. It had been a long time since I had one that wasn't, for lack of a better word, normal. During my sleep, I'd connected with someone. I'd done it in the past, usually with a person who didn't realize they had the ability to reach out. More often than not, something would click for them, and they'd yank back, breaking the connection.

When my abilities developed as a teen, it freaked me out. Not only that someone was in my head, or I was in theirs, depending on the night, but also the sense of rejection that came when they didn't want me there. In hindsight, it was ridiculous because I didn't want them there either. But I was a typical teen—weird.

This dream was different though. It didn't feel like somebody who was just wandering around and got lost. It felt almost intentional. I kept thinking about it, grasping at fragments in an attempt to get it back. Had I woken up on my own, it would've been a different story. The dream would just be there for me to filter through. But when I was ripped from a dream, I always lost it. Usually I didn't care, but, in this case, it felt important somehow.

I shook my head to clear it when my backup alarm went off. I didn't have time for this now. I needed everything perfect for Jonathan. I could think back to this later, or possibly find them again tonight.

With a new boss in town, I needed to be ready for inspection. Two big things in one day. More importantly, I needed to make sure the kids were ready. Strangers in the building wasn't something I ever liked to spring on them. They needed to know the rules to avoid getting in trouble with the new guy.

They were great kids, all of them. But that didn't mean they weren't children and apt to make mistakes. A couple were nearing their first shift, adding a level of hormones and sass. But if they knew what to expect and what I expected from them, they'd be fine.

After a quick shower, I went downstairs and started a batch of baked French toast and bacon. It was a quick and easy breakfast and would allow me time to triple-check the kitchen, ensuring I had dates on all the food and that I had rotated the stock correctly. I hadn't been through an inspection at the school yet, but I knew this from my time in food service, so I figured it was best to start there.

I did a quick double check of the living room and the classroom area, which was set up in the old library, and then went up and started to wake the rooms one by one. All the rooms except for Sally's were shared. Hers was a converted closet. Ideally, we would only have fourteen students, but I understood why they wouldn't turn somebody down. Heck, if they said they needed my room, I'd sleep in the hallway. The kids came first. Always.

My eldest teen, Abel, grumbled about needing five more minutes. Usually, I'd probably give him that, but this was not the day to be running late.

"It's French toast and bacon day."

Those two foods had him up and getting ready. Once I was sure everyone was awake and tending to what they needed to, I went back to the kitchen and put the French toast in one oven and the bacon in another.

Soon enough, the "chef extraordinaire" of the week, Abel, arrived. His job was to help set the table. When I first started implementing chores, they all looked at me like I had lost my mind. Apparently, the person who was here before me didn't do any of that. But now they liked the silly titles and took the responsibility seriously.

After breakfast was eaten and cleaned up, it was time for school. I set them up with their seat work just as the squeak of the front door told me it was time.

"Okay, boys and girls. Remember what I said? We need to be on our best behavior today. You have your seat work, and, when you're done, you can read your book-report book. If we do a great job, we'll spend the afternoon outside"—I put up air quotes—"doing science." We were going to go hang out in the woods and find cool rocks and maybe skip them in the river.

They chorused, "Yes, Headmaster." Normally, they called me by my name. We were, at our core, a family, even if only temporarily. But I'd instructed them to be formal today, and they understood the assignment.

I snuck out of the classroom, leaving the door ajar so I could hear them if I needed to.

"Hello." I walked into the room where Jonathan was standing with not one but two men. I assumed one was the inspector and the other his new coworker, but no introductions came. "I just want to introduce myself. I'm Sloan. If you need anything or have any questions, let me know."

"Where are the children?" Not the welcome I was expecting from Jonathan, but he looked off. Maybe he was nervous too.

I showed them the way, and the children, being the wonderful ones they were, did exactly what I had told them to.

"Well-behaved," one of the men I didn't know said.

"Yes, sir," I confirmed.

"That'll be all." He turned and went the other way, and I returned to the classroom.

About a half hour later, Sally managed to explode her pen all over her shirt. She looked mortified. I wasn't. It was only a shirt and, as long as I swapped it out before the inspector came back through, all would be good.

"I'll get you some new clothes, honey. You stay here."

I didn't want her wandering around, with or without me. The longer they stayed here and were the epitome of perfect children, the better. I was looking forward to them being their normal selves again though. They were more fun when they were simply themselves.

"Kids, same rules apply." I went upstairs to her room and grabbed a shirt.

Just as I was about to leave, I heard something that would haunt me to my dying breath.

"You said Sally doesn't talk?"

"No, sir."

"Good. That'll fetch a pretty penny."

My heart thumped in my chest. Fetch a pretty penny? No, no, no, no, no. They couldn't really be saying what I thought they were. I intentionally slowed my heartbeat before leaving the room, crossing everything they had moved on, but not in the direction of the classroom. As I turned the corner, they were there, all three of them, almost as if they were waiting for me.

"Oh, hello." I decided my safest option was to play dumb. "If you need anything..."

The next thing I knew, I was kicked, hit, and knocked to the ground. I could hear my ribs break, followed by the distinct sound of my wrist doing the same.

Shit.

I had to hold it together and not let the kids see or hear what was happening. After they left, I would shift, and everything would be okay. Only my plan was missing a vital fact—they came prepared and, before I could sit up, they had a collar wrapped around my neck.

"No way you're getting this off." The man spit on my face. "That's what you get for listening to things that are not your business. Maybe if you're good next time I come by, you'll be able to shift again."

I didn't understand what he meant until they left a few minutes later and I tried to shift for the first time. Tried and failed.

I needed to get the kids out of here. Now.