Chapter 2

Chapter Two

W eekday mornings were always a circus. I was planning a field workday with my company RBW Landscaping, which meant I didn't spend much time on my hair and makeup. My day would consist of digging and planting. Although, to be honest, I didn't spend much time getting ready on office days either. Putting on more than mascara and concealer and curling my hair wasn't worth the lost fifteen minutes of sleep.

After I threw on a pair of jeans and a light gray RBW T-shirt, I pulled my hair into a ponytail. Since I was meeting Mrs. Pritchard, I considered putting on mascara but decided against it. She could take me as I was.

After I brushed my teeth and swiped on some deodorant, I packed Liam's diaper bag and headed downstairs with an outfit to change him into.

Joe had already gotten everyone fed and was cleaning up the kitchen.

"You're the best," I said, giving him a kiss. "Are you riding with us to the game tonight?"

He took Liam's clothes from me and handed me a plate of eggs with a piece of toast. I sat at the table and started to shovel food into my mouth.

"We'll play it by ear. I might have to meet you there."

Mikey's face wrinkled with a frown. "Aren't you coming to my game, Uncle Joe?"

Joe set Liam on his lap and stripped him out of his sleeper. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

Mikey's eyes flew wide. "There's gonna be wild horses at my game?"

Joe laughed as he tugged a T-shirt over Liam's head. "Sorry, buddy. It's just an expression. There won't be any horses there. But I'll be there."

"Promise?"

"You bet."

"Is it my turn to bring snacks?"

"Nope." Joe said, now working on Liam's jeans. "That's in two weeks."

"We can't forget."

Joe laughed. "I doubt you'll let us."

"Uncle Joe and Aunt Rose are responsible , Mikey," Ashley said with a sigh. "They'll remember."

I was glad Ashley had more faith in me than I had. I suspected she'd be the one to remind us. But on the off chance she didn't, I'd already scheduled an alert on my phone.

I checked the time and stood, eating the rest of my eggs as I walked over to the sink. "It's supposed to be cooler today, so everybody get your jackets on and let's go!

Joe stood and put Liam on his hip, then picked up the diaper bag as I scooped Hope out of her chair and carried her out to my Suburban.

Ashley and Mikey were already climbing into their booster seats in the third row as I strapped Hope into her car seat. Just as I got her buckled, I realized I'd forgotten my own bag and Hope's. Joe was buckling in a wiggly Liam, so I hurried inside, grabbed both bags, and ran back outside, passing Joe on the way.

"Have fun digging in the dirt," he said, giving me a quick kiss. He knew how much I loved planting.

"And you have fun with all your meetings."

"I knew the sheriff's position came with a ton of administrative stuff, but some days…"

"You're the best sheriff this county has had in a long, long time, Joe Simmons," I said, placing a hand on his chest and patting it. "You're doin' good, whether you can see it or not."

"Thanks, Rose. That means more to me than you know." Concern filled his eyes. "I know you were up with Liam a couple of times last night. Sorry I didn't help more."

"It was fine. You were beat, and I wasn't sleeping well anyway. Besides, you've taken plenty of turns."

"Did you have trouble sleeping because of your nightmares?"

I hesitated before answering. "Not last night, thank goodness."

He cupped my cheek. "You're safe, Rose. The kids are safe."

I wanted to believe him, but my nightmares of the literal nightmare we'd lived through three years ago had started up again a few weeks ago. They'd stoked my lingering fear that the Hardshaw crime group would reform and hunt me down for the role I'd played in their demise. I was even more terrified they'd hurt my kids.

Joe had assured me time and time again that we were safe and Hardshaw was gone for good. But my subconscious still didn't believe it.

"I know," I said with a soft smile, wishing I truly believed it.

"I'm lookin' forward to this weekend," he said with a sly smile.

"Me too," I said affectionately.

One of my favorite bands was coming to Little Rock on Friday night, and Joe had booked tickets and a room in a boutique hotel. Jed and Neely Kate had offered to watch the kids, so we were planning to leave work early on Friday and have dinner in Little Rock before the concert. We wouldn't be able to stay for long on Saturday—Mikey had a game at one—but we'd be able to sleep without interruption.

I said as much, and Joe gave me a wicked grin. "Maybe one interruption or two."

I laughed, lifting my brow. "Two? Someone's ambitious." We were lucky to get more than twenty minutes of sexy time at home.

He laughed too, then swatted my bottom and gave me a kiss.

I leaned back and looked up into his loving eyes for a second before giving his chest one last pat and jogging down the porch steps. After I tossed the bags into the passenger seat, I got in and started the car, taking a deep breath to settle down from the morning craziness. I was just about to back out of the driveway when Joe came outside carrying my thermal mug.

I rolled down the window, and he held it out to me. "I think you're gonna need your coffee."

I took it from him and sighed. "Is this ever gonna get easier?"

"Maybe when they've all graduated from high school," he said, grinning ear to ear. He loved every minute of the craziness. Most days, I did too, but today, I was worried about Ashley.

I dropped Liam and Hope off at the New Living Hope Revival Church daycare before rushing to take Ashley and Mikey to their elementary school.

It was the same school Violet and I had attended when we were little girls—where I'd been bullied mercilessly. It had been hard to come back for school performances with Violet when Ashley had started kindergarten, but I'd learned to deal with it. Still, walking in now with the kids pouring into the building caused my nerves to kick in. I couldn't stop the other kids from talking about her father, but I could expect her teacher to intervene on her behalf.

After I dropped Mikey off in his classroom, Ashley grabbed my hand and squeezed. I glanced down at her and offered a reassuring smile as we walked down the hallway to Room 110.

Kids were entering Mrs. Pritchard's classroom, and she was standing at the front of the room, writing the date on the whiteboard.

I cleared my throat. "Mrs. Pritchard."

Ashley still clung to my hand as her teacher turned to face me with a disapproving glare. "Mrs. Simmons," she said, somehow looking down her nose at me, despite the fact I was a good fifteen feet from her. "I expected you to show up a half-hour ago."

This woman had been at West Side Elementary since I'd attended here, and while I'd never had her as a teacher, I'd known her to be strict. I'd almost requested a classroom reassignment for Ashley, but she seemed to thrive when firm rules were in place. In fact, I sometimes wondered if she floundered in the chaos at our farmhouse. I'd figured an enforced school environment might suit her. And I had to admit, other than a few incidents involving Oliver, Ashley had loved her fourth-grade year up until this point. But allowing children to taunt my niece over something—whether it be in or out of her control—was not acceptable, and I planned to make sure it didn't happen again.

I gave her a haughty look. "And I expect my kids to all go to bed without asking for a glass of water or wanting us to read the same My Little Pony book seventeen days in a row, but that rarely happens."

Her mouth dropped, and she stared at me in shock before she recovered, pinching her lips with condemnation. "Class is about to start, so this will have to wait until after school."

"No," I said, lifting my chin. "I'm here now, so we'll discuss it now ."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Mrs. Pritchard said.

"Then Ashley and I will be talking with the principal… with or without you, because I definitely have plenty to talk about with him ." My hand tightened around Ashley's, and I led her out of the classroom toward the office.

"Mrs. Simmons," Mrs. Pritchard called after me. "Wait."

I stopped and turned to face her. She still looked angry, but she seemed to be trying to hide it.

There were fewer children in the hallway, but the ones who were there gaped at us before moving toward their respective classrooms.

Mrs. Pritchard stood in the doorway, glancing in the classroom. "Everyone start your morning work," she said. "I'll be back in a moment." She stepped into the hall. "This really should be handled after school."

"I'm here now, and I'm not going to have Ashley worrying herself to death over it all day long." I drew in a breath. "Ashley told me that Oliver said mean things about her father yesterday."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Oliver spoke the truth." Her brows lifted. "Or is her father not in prison?"

My belly burned with indignation. "I think I've heard enough. Come on, Ashley." I headed toward the office again, terrified of what I'd do to the woman if I was forced to face her a second longer.

"I don't want to get in trouble," Ashley whispered, giving me slight resistance.

"You won't, but hopefully Mrs. Pritchard will."

Ashley stopped in her tracks, bringing me to a halt. "I don't want her to get in trouble either."

"You let me worry about that."

I stomped into the office and demanded to speak to the principal, an older man who had been the principal when I'd attended over two decades before. He came out of his office a few minutes later and motioned for us to come in.

Ashley moved like she was on a death march, but I ushered her in, and we both sat on chairs in front of his desk. "Mr. Caldoni, thank you for seeing us so quickly."

"What seems to be the issue…" He glanced at Ashley, then back at me. "Mrs. Beauregard?"

So he knew Ashley. That was good. He had to know it was unusual for her to be caught up in drama. "It's Mrs. Simmons," I said. I was still legally Rose Gardner, but I let people call me by Joe's last name when it pertained to the kids. "Or Ms. Gardner. I'm Ashley's aunt. Her legal guardian."

His face went slack. "Oh. Right. I'd forgotten."

Ashley was still clinging to my hand, so I gave her another squeeze and a reassuring smile before I got down to business. "Mr. Caldoni, it has come to my attention that a boy in my niece's class has been harassing her and that her teacher, Mrs. Pritchard, did nothing to intervene. In fact, when I questioned her about it just a few moments ago, she seemed to condone the behavior by stating that the boy was speaking the truth."

Mr. Caldoni's jaw tightened as he turned to my niece and said kindly, "Ashley, why don't you tell me what happened?"

In a meek voice and with her gaze on her lap, Ashley repeated what she'd told me that morning, along with a few more details that made the whole situation even more unsavory. Oliver and some other children had tormented her for several minutes, and the only reason Mrs. Pritchard had eventually shut them down was because it had interrupted her lesson time. Oliver had resumed his harassment during recess, and Ashley had finally kicked him to make him stop.

When she finished, Mr. Caldoni lifted his gaze to meet mine. "Mrs. Simmons, we take bullying very seriously here."

Part of me wanted to say I wished he'd taken it seriously when I'd been Ashley's age, but this was about her, not me. Even so, I'd pull her out before I ever let anyone treat my niece the way I'd be treated at this school.

"I appreciate that, Mr. Caldoni," I said with a slight nod. "But apparently, Mrs. Pritchard doesn't have the same philosophy."

He folded his hands on the desk. "I'm sure this has been blown out of proportion."

"And I can assure you that it has not," I said firmly. "Ashley isn't prone to fanciful exaggerations. She believes in the facts. If she says this happened, then it did."

"I'll speak to Mrs. Pritchard after school."

"And I'm sure she'll deny it ever happened, or she'll dismiss it, the way she did a few minutes ago in the hallway, saying that he spoke the truth." I glanced over at Ashley and gave her another smile. "Ash, can you wait out in the other room for a moment? I need to speak to Mr. Caldoni alone."

"Okay," she said so quietly I barely heard her.

I waited until she walked out and the door clicked before facing him again. "Ashley's mother had a terrible illness that separated her from her mother for months before she came home and died. Then her father was arrested and incarcerated." I pointed to the door. "That little girl has been to hell and back and survived. I would like to consider West Side Elementary a safe place for her, but that was stolen from her yesterday, and she no longer feels safe here. Especially since her teacher has made it clear, she doesn't have her back."

He drew in a deep breath and let it out. "Mrs. Simmons, I know that Mrs. Pritchard can come across as harsh."

"Harsh is taking away recess when you don't have enough time to finish your in-class work. Allowing Ashley's classmates to harass her over something that she has absolutely no control over is Draconian."

He offered me a weak smile. "I will speak to Mrs. Pritchard."

"And, as I said, she'll deny the entire thing. You need to speak to some of the other children in the class to get the real story."

He stared at me for a moment. "Very well. I will."

My back stiffened. "When you confirm that my niece is telling an accurate account of what happened yesterday, what do you plan to do about it?"

"I can't discuss disciplining other students or faculty with you."

"I don't necessarily need to know the details," I said, "but I do need to know that this will be addressed, and a reoccurrence will not be tolerated."

"Of course. Of course," he said, patting his hands toward me. "I plan to get to the bottom of things."

"How can I leave my niece here, knowing you plan to send her back to the very place that hurt her yesterday before you address the issue?"

His face softened. "I understand your concern, Mrs. Simmons, and I am truly sorry Ashley was hurt yesterday. I do plan to address this, so it hopefully won't happen again, but until we have an actionable plan, either I or Ms. Klaas, the assistant principal, will sit in Mrs. Pritchard's classroom." He paused and lowered his voice. "You are not the first parent to notify me about what happened yesterday afternoon. In fact—" He gave me a soft smile, "—I'd planned to call you in a bit and discuss it with you."

I sat back in my seat. "Oh."

"I take the safety of our students personally," he said. "Both physically and emotionally." He held my gaze. "Attitudes about bullying have changed since you were a student here. I can assure you that I am full of regret for the way students were treated in the past."

I stared at him in shock. First, I was surprised he remembered I'd been a student here, especially since he'd called me Mrs. Beauregard. Second, I wondered if he was speaking in general or addressing me specifically.

"I'm glad to hear it," I finally choked out. "I will not stand by and let my niece's spirit be crushed when a teacher could have tried to stop it."

"That being said, children are often cruel," he said, sorrow in his eyes. "We can do everything in our power to stop it, but incidents happen."

"I understand that," I said, "but I expect the teacher to try to protect my niece."

"I agree. We're on the same page, Mrs. Simmons."

Some of the anger bled out of me. "Thank you."

"I can assure you, one of us from the administration will be observing the classroom for the next day or so. Ashley is in safe hands."

"Thank you," I repeated, on the verge of tears. "I really need for her to be okay."

"I understand."

I got up and found Ashley sitting in a chair in the receptionist area. I squatted in front of her and took her hand in mine. "Mr. Caldoni or Ms. Klaas will be in Mrs. Pritchard's classroom for the rest of the day, okay?"

She nodded, her eyes wide. "Am I in trouble for kicking Oliver?"

I cringed. Somehow in all of this, I'd forgotten about that.

"No," Mr. Caldoni said, following me out. "We'll consider having to deal with the situation at hand punishment enough."

"Thank you, Mr. Caldoni," she said, with tears in her eyes.

From my crouched position, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a bear hug, holding her tight until she tried to wiggle free. I cupped her cheek in my hand and whispered, "I love you, Ashy. Never ever be afraid to come to me or Uncle Joe."

"Okay," she whispered back, a tear falling down her cheek.

"Do you want me to tell you if you're gonna have a good day?" I held her gaze so she'd understand what I was asking—whether she wanted me to try to see her day in a vision.

Ever since I was a small child, I'd had visions of the future. They used to be small things, like where someone's lost keys could be found or if someone's husband was having an affair. (Okay, maybe not small for the couple.) But the visions had always been spontaneous, and whatever I saw in my mind's eye blurted out of me when the vision was finished. I had no say in what came out of my mouth. More often than not, it got me into trouble.

The mother who'd raised me had believed I was possessed by a demon, and I'd spent a good portion of my childhood being locked in closets and beaten with wooden spoons. People around me had thought I was weird or crazy—hence, the bullying as a child.

But soon after my mother was murdered when I was twenty-four, I'd realized I could purposely try to have visions. Because I still blurted out whatever I saw, I sometimes had to talk my way out of humiliating or even dangerous situations, but I'd realized the futures I saw weren't inevitable. I could prevent bad things from happening by knowing about them beforehand. Using my gift had gotten me out of a lot of scrapes with criminals before Hope was born, but forcing visions of other people had started to feel like a major invasion of their privacy. I could ask a question of the universe and hope I saw the answer, but things didn't always go according to plan. Sometimes I saw embarrassing situations, and sometimes I saw things that were none of my business. So now, I always asked permission before forcing a vision.

She stared into my eyes and gave me a small nod, so I closed my eyes and asked the universe whether Ashley would have any trouble at school today.

I'd learned through experience that open-ended questions were risky. Visions went much better when I asked something specific, and I worried this question was too vague.

Suddenly, I was thrust into a vision, looking at my own face through Ashley's eyes.

"Did you have a good day?" Vision Rose asked.

I shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. "It was okay."

"Any trouble from the kids or Mrs. Pritchard?"

I shook my head, but a melancholy settled over me. "No."

The vision ended, and I opened my eyes. "You're gonna have an okay day," tumbled out of my mouth, and I held her gaze again. "Are you all right with an okay day? You can come to work with me today if you need a break."

"I have a math test," she whispered. "I don't want to miss it."

"I assure you, Mrs. Simmons," Mr. Caldoni said. "We'll take good care of her."

Which meant I had to take his word for it, but part of my heart was sitting in that chair, and it went against every instinct inside me to leave her.

"It's okay, Aunt Rose," Ashley said, sliding out of her seat and standing in front of me. "I want to stay."

"Okay," I said hesitantly as I stood. I still wanted to take her with me, but I knew I wouldn't always be around to fight her battles. Sometimes, she'd have to fight them herself.

But if she couldn't handle it, I'd be there behind her to fix it as much as I could.

"Come on, Ashley," Mr. Caldoni said. "We'll walk to class together."

I watched them head back to the hellhole that was Mrs. Pritchard's classroom and knew I had to trust I'd made the right decision.