Page 7 of My Mafia Chauffeur

"Oh no… I hope they're both okay. Is my daughter alright?" I asked, concerned.

"Yes, they're both okay, just some minor injuries, but we'd like you to come down to the school to discuss the situation further," the teacher implored. I looked down at my watch. It was almost time for my delivery.

"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can. What kind of disciplinary action will be taken against my daughter?" I asked.

"We're still investigating the situation, but it's important that we talk to you in person before making any decisions," she answered.

"I understand. Is there anything else I need to know before coming to the school?"

"No, just come to the main office, and we'll be waiting for you there."

"Alright, thank you for letting me know. I'll be there as soon as possible," I replied while setting down the package James had given me earlier.

"Thank you, Mr. Anthony. We'll see you soon," she replied as I heard the call click off.

I felt shocked about this. Who knew my little five-year-old could get into a fight? We had gone over many times what to do when faced with a conflict. I wondered what might have happened.

Whatever it was, I desperately hoped it wouldn’t have any dire consequences, and I also hoped it wouldn’t delay my delivery.

As I pulled into the parking lot of my daughter's school, I felt a pang of nervousness. It had been a while since I had last entered the school, and I needed to figure out where I was supposed to go. I turned off the engine of my car and took a deep breath.

As I stepped out of the car, I glanced around, taking in the sight of the sprawling school grounds. It was a bright and sunny afternoon, and the school buildings looked clean and modern. I could hear the sound of children's laughter and c in the distance.

I set off across the parking lot towards the main school building, my eyes scanning the signs and markers for any indication of where to go. Finally, I spotted a small sign pointing toward the main office and hurried toward it.

I pushed open the heavy glass door of the main office. Inside, I was greeted by the sound of phones ringing and the chatter of secretaries and administrators. I looked around, trying to locate my daughter's teacher.

"There you are, Mr. Anthony," I heard her voice. "I'm so sorry we had to make you come down here," the teacher added quickly.

"It's fine. Where is she?" I replied.

"She's fine, Mr. Anthony. I would love to speak with you for a minute before you see your daughter," she said as she gestured towards the hallway. I nodded.

I was nervous, with all sorts of thoughts about what could have happened racing through my mind. The long hallway seemed endless. Finally, we arrived at her office, and she gestured for me to take a seat.

As I sat down, the teacher began to speak.

"Thank you once again, Mr. Anthony. I would like to talk for a moment about your daughter's behavior in class," she stated.

"Yes, of course. Is there a problem?" I asked.

"No, not a major one, but I wanted to share some concerns. Your daughter has always been a sweet girl, but whenever she detects some form of cheating by her classmates, she acts out, and it escalates easily. The other day, I was quick to stop an altercation where she had stood up to defend her friend from a boy who was trying to jump the lunch line. I have told her several times to always remain calm and report any issues to me. I just wanted to make sure you were aware and could support her in managing her emotions," she reported.

"Thank you for letting me know. I'll talk to her and make sure she understands the importance of following your advice. I appreciate you keeping me informed," I replied hastily, not surprised at her behavior,

"Great, I appreciate it. We just want to make sure she is able to handle difficult situations in a safe and healthy way for everyone," she added.

"Of course. Thank you for bringing this to my attention," I replied.

"No problem. It's always better to address these things early on. Your daughter is a great kid, and I know she'll do well with some guidance," she said as she stood up from the chair.

"Thank you very much for your help. I'll be sure to talk to her and work with her to find more productive ways of dealing with difficult situations," I answered.

As she led me through the school's hallways towards my daughter’s classroom, the sound of children's banter filled the atmosphere, creating a lively and bustling vibe.

I continued to hear the sound of laughter and giggles as we approached the classroom. It was as if the walls were alive with the joyful sounds of children. The hallway was bustling with activity as students rushed back and forth, trying to make the most of their school day.

As we turned the corner, Mrs. Smith pointed to my daughter's classroom. It appeared to be an art class of some sort. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear children's voices coming from within. The teacher's voice could be heard, softly speaking to the class, and I could hear the sound of chairs moving as students shifted in their seats.

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