Page 26 of The Alpha's Forbidden Heir

“I can’t wait to see it,” she says, ruffling his hair before turning to me. “How’s everything, Anna?”

“Good,” I lie smoothly. “He’s been looking forward to school all weekend.”

“That’s wonderful. He’s such a bright boy.”

I nod as I watch him disappear into the classroom.

“Miss Anna, what’s gonna happen if you mix all the colors together?”

“Miss Anna, can we make it explode?”

“Miss Anna, can I eat this?”

“No, Ethan, you absolutely cannot eat baking soda,” I say, shooting him a look over the top of my safety goggles. The seven-year-old beams at me, unrepentant, his mouth stained with what I can only assume is leftover juice.

“Why not? It looks like sugar!”

“It isn’t sugar, buddy. Trust me on this one. And Chloe,” I turn to the little girl waving both hands in the air, “nothing’s going to explode unless I’ve seriously miscalculated, which I haven’t. And mixing all the colors together just makes brown.”

A chorus of groans ripples through the class. “That’s boring!”

“Brown’s a great color! It’s the color of chocolate, and you all like chocolate, don’t you?”

Their enthusiasm shifts immediately, and their tiny faces light up at the mention of sweets. I laugh, carefully pouring vinegar into the small volcano-shaped container on the table.

“Alright, everyone. Watch closely. This is called a chemical reaction. When we mix baking soda and vinegar, something cool happens.”

The kids lean forward in their seats. As the mixture starts to bubble and foam, spilling over the edges of the container, there’s a collective gasp followed by wild applause.

“Whoa!”

“That’s so cool!”

“Do it again, Miss Anna!”

Before I can respond, the door opens, and one of the other teachers, Miss Clara, steps in. Her expression is tight, her eyes scanning the room until they land on me.

“Ms. Anna, can I speak with you for a moment?”

Something in her tone makes my stomach drop.

“Of course.” I smile at the kids. “Alright, class. I want you to draw what you just saw while I step out for a second, okay? And no touching the volcano!”

There’s a scattered chorus of “Okay, Miss Anna!” as I follow Clara into the hallway.

“What’s wrong?” I ask the moment the door shuts behind me.

“It’s Elias,” she says. “Something happened on the playground.”

My heart skips a beat. “Is he hurt?”

“No, but…” She hesitates, glancing toward the playground. “You should see for yourself.”

By the time we reach the playground, my mind is racing with worst-case scenarios. I spot Elias sitting on the ground near the jungle gym, his small shoulders hunched, and his face buried in his hands. Another child, a girl with blonde pigtails, is crying loudly nearby while a small group of kids stands around them, looking on with wide, uncertain eyes.

“What happened?” I ask, kneeling beside Elias.

He doesn’t look up, his little body trembling.

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