LOGINThen I called Zach.One ring.No answer.Two.Voicemail.I called again as I opened the live location he’d sent me.The black dot marking the SUV was moving across the map, almost at the school.Then it stopped.Not in front of the building.Three blocks away.I zoomed in.The vehicle was sitting at a small intersection near the park, pulled over at the side of the road.My call still went unanswered.“Pick up, cabrón.”I tried Marco.Nothing.I stood too fast, sending my chair scraping backward.A message from Arun appeared on my laptop.ARUN: Ara, there was a remote request to the school vendor endpoint. Nine minutes ago.ME: I know. They added Theo.His response took longer this time.ARUN: The real Theo?ME: No.ARUN: Call the school.I pulled up the head administrator’s number.Before I could hit call, my phone buzzed.Zach.I answered on the first ring.“What happened?”The low hum of a vehicle filled the background behind his voice. “We didn’t go in.”I gripped the edge of my d
I waited until the second SUV disappeared beyond the gate.Then I counted to three.That was enough obedience for one morning.I went back inside, locked the door, then walked through the kitchen without touching the cleaning cloth I’d left behind. The house felt strange without Max and Issa. Too large. Too clean. No small footsteps racing around upstairs. No Issa accusing someone of insulting her fashion. No Max asking whether his school bag could carry a sword.Just the low hum of the dishwasher and light rain against the windows.Zach had told me to stay home.He never said I couldn’t work from home.I went into my office, closed the door, then pulled my laptop from the docking station. The screen lit up before I had fully sat down.Fingerprint.Password.Hardware key from the drawer.My company’s internal VPN.The connection spun longer than usual.Three seconds.Five.Then a red banner appeared across the top of the screen.UNRECOGNIZED NETWORK INSPECTION DETECTEDI stared at it.
I folded my arms. “And the road outside my house?”“One of the perimeter cameras caught a vehicle stopping twice at the bottom of the hill. It never approached the gate. The plate was partially obscured.”“Make?”“Not confirmed yet.”“Occupants?”“Not identified.”I stared at him. “That doesn’t automatically make the two incidents connected.”“No.”“But you’re treating them like they are.”“I’m treating them like two things that should not be happening at the same time.”That made sense.I hated when he made sense. “Was there a threat against the school?”“No.”“Then why are you taking them?”“Because I can change the route without letting anyone track your usual vehicle pattern. Marco has already secured the route. Another car will follow behind us. The team at the school has been notified without involving the rest of the staff.”“You said your people were already at the school.”“Two have been stationed outside the perimeter since the first threat.”I pressed my tongue against my t
Sure.Sure. Apparently, Zachary de Sanctis kept emergency supplies for two children who technically weren’t even know he was their father.I wanted to be angry.I’m angry.He had arranged car seats, clothes, water, food, and security without asking me. Again. He always built the system first, then announced that I was safe inside it.But the part of me that had slept too deeply last night and still hadn’t finished her coffee noticed the straps already adjusted to the twins’ size.I zipped the bag harder than necessary. “You know this is controlling, right?”“Yeah.” The answer came far too easily.I frowned. “You’re not even going to defend yourself?”“It wouldn’t help.”“UNCLE SHINY!”I turned as Max came out first, dressed in his preschool uniform: a white polo beneath a navy sweater, shorts, tall socks, and sneakers that already had one stain even though he hadn’t left the house yet.His dark hair had been combed to the side with a little volume in front. Apparently, that was footb
I cleaned a kitchen that was already clean.There was no other reason for me to wipe the marble for the third time, unless the syrup spot I’d already removed had developed regenerative abilities and was waiting for me to let my guard down.The cloth moved left to right.Right to left.I flipped it over, then wiped the area beside the coffee machine, which no one had even used that morning.The oven clock read 8:04.My phone sat silent beside the sink.The window wasn’t offering any answers either.“THAT’S NOT FOOTBALL HAIR!” Max yelled from upstairs.“I TOLD YOU I DON’T KNOW WHAT FOOTBALL HAIR IS!” Bianna shouted back at almost the same volume.“I want it like Uncle Shiny’s!”“You have the head of a four-year-old, not a Nike endorsement!”“Auntie, don’t use too much gel. He already looks desperate.” Issa’s voice cut in, sharp and deeply offended.“I do not look desperate!”“You ask for athlete hair when you need a snack after running two laps.”“That’s because I’m growing!”I set down
“What happen?” The word came out before I had time to choose a tone that didn’t sound worried.Zach looked up.The coldness in his eyes vanished the second they found me. It was replaced by something calmer, lighter, soft. Too quickly.I knew him.He gave a shake of his head, then reached for his coffee like nothing had happened. “I’m taking our twins to school.”I blinked. “What?”“You’re staying home.”I set my mug down slowly. “Why?”He took a sip of coffee.I nearly grabbed the mug and poured it over his head. “Zachary.”“Later.” Flat. Easy. Like I had asked why he chose a black tie instead of why he had suddenly started making decisions about my children and my body in the same breath.I gave a short, humorless laugh. “It’s not an answer.”“For now, it is.”“Not in my house.”His eyes lifted to mine again. So calm.I hated that calm because it meant he had already made the decision before I had even finished getting angry.“BIBI! ISSA USED MY HAIR GEL!” Max’s voice exploded from
Nathan’s kitchen was not a kitchen.It was some kind of culinary museum that happened to have a sink.Dark marble stretched across the massive island like the surface of night polished until it could reflect small sins. Copper pans hung neatly above the large stove, not the kind of pans normal huma
The second-floor workspace looks like a bored Pinterest board: neat white desk, bookshelves, two monitors. I’m in a fitted black blazer on top… alpaca-print pajama pants on the bottom.Out in the hallway, just beyond the half-closed door, the sound of running shakes the corridor.“SUPER MAX WILL SA
Five years later.Oregon rain tapped softly against the kitchen’s glass wall. Steady, cold, and mildly annoying.The pan on the stove hissed quietly, the smell of almost-done corn arepas mixing with black coffee and the chorizo I was frying in the skillet next to it. A slow Latin playlist floated f
I sat on a slick wooden bench on a Boston sidewalk, my watch telling me it was well past midnight, and the only things keeping me company were a streetlamp and the constant buzz of phone notifications going off like a curse.My boyfriend was being kissed by an influencer on a five-inch screen.I st







