Page 33 of The Wolf's Secret Twins

At the time, Anthony had been four years old. He hadn’t been aware of our situation, or how his grandparents had sold him out with his mama. Adhara was taking one of her many naps that afternoon, during the same time her brother should have been napping with her.

Dirk had come in. Dirk had stomped right across the floor to grab me. Dirk had spat in my face and cast me off like I was yesterday’s newspaper. Dirk, Dirk,dirty Dirkhad been so bad to me and to us that it made me shiver in the afternoon sun just to think about it.

My poor boy had witnessed everything. He’d asked if Dirk was his father, questioned whether or not he’d be mean someday, and I fought the urge to cry myself silly. But I’d held it together for him and calmly explained that his papa was a little off his kilter, but generally a good man.

I hope I get to meet him someday, Mama, the memory of Anthony said in my head.I want to know if he looks like me.

Tears pricked my eyes that I swept away quickly. Now wasn’t the time for that crap. It was all in the past. It was all things that didn’t need to be talked about or remembered. We had a good future ahead of us with a man who was committed to our happiness and safety. Nothing would ever stop that from happening, and I would make sure of it.

I just had to bide my time while he got everything together. Feeling sentimental, I pulled out my phone and studied the texts he had sent this morning, the ones swearing that we would be a family together wherever we ended up. He pledged that he would get us an unregistered car with fake plates, hide it at the edge of the Bravecrest property, and then we could take off from there, kicking up the midnight dust.

My kids were no strangers to running. Perhaps it would be an adventure for them. Because this time, they’d be going with me and their father. With every truth on the table, we would be unstoppable.

I sagged slightly as I tucked my phone into my pocket. A whole damn week—what were we supposed to do until then? Keep faking our smiles? Keep pretending to be happy in a place that hated us?

Once I reached the school door, I wiped the mournful expression from my face, put on my gentle mom smile, and went inside. Cool air swept over my body, caressing my skin just like Slater. It took all my strength not to shiver as I recalled his touch. Sneaking around at night was great and all, but it was hard when I wanted him in the morning or the afternoon. It meant I had to wait.

Waiting can be exciting, I thought.Maybe he can spend the night soon.

I was getting ahead of myself. My sweet knight would be with us when he was good and ready. If we rushed, then we would get caught, and I didn’t want our situation to explode. Things had mostly calmed down since that dreadful meeting and Bentley had been handled.

No use poking at an agitated rattlesnake.

Some loud crying caught my attention. Granted, a kid crying in a mixed-age classroom like Francine’s wasn’t usually a big deal, but my mother senses were going off pretty hard as I approached the door. My heart skipped a beat when the crying registered as the kind of crying I’d heard a lot of during plenty of sleepless nights.

Nights that I wanted so much to forget.

“Adhara,” I whispered shakily, and then darted inside, locating my daughter with her brother’s arms around her shoulders. She was cradling her left eye and crying hard enough to turn her face strawberry red. “Buggy, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Sobs choked her up. She trembled while trying to lower her hand, revealing an eye that was puffy and swollen. I gasped and dropped to my knees, fishing through my pockets for something, frantically trying to get my bearings.

“Did you fall? Did you fight?” I snapped my head around. “Where’s your teacher?”

I found Francine near the door leading to the playground outside. The other kids were outside playing—but Francine was fuming indignantly at a woman who had her back turned to me. I felt the snide attitude rolling right off her shoulders—the way she carried herself, the uppity stance, and the way she tapped her foot with annoyance. She might not have been wearing riches, but I could tell she was used to being treated a certain way by people.

I knew her type because I served her type.

Slowly, I rose from the ground and went to the mini fridge that Francine kept behind her desk. Sure enough, there were miniature ice packs in there piled next to a few teething rings. I grabbed a couple of the ice packs and brought them back to my daughter, kneeling again in front of her.

“What happened?” I asked Anthony. “Don’t be afraid to tell me the truth, okay?”

Anthony glanced nervously in the direction of Miss Britches who was talking Francine’s ear off in heated whispers. I caught a few nasty words, some of them directed at us, but chose to listen to my son instead of marching over there. Having the full story under my belt would help loads.

I offered my son a gentle smile and took his hands. “Come on. Be strong for your sister. Tell me what happened.”

“Shannon came up and—and—” His brows knitted together. “She kicked Adhara in the shin, called her a bad word, and then punched her.”

Anger shot through me like a thousand volts of electricity. I was appalled that a child would do such a thing—but I had to guess that the very same child who’d done it was being sheltered by a mother with a nasty attitude and a gossip problem.

The same mother who was currently arguing with Francine.

Red was all I could see when I glanced at Francine with that mother again. The mother was now waving her hands, her voice growing louder, her concern only for the fact that her daughter was now sitting out of recess as punishment.

I could hear everything now. She wasn’t even bothering to whisper anymore. “…and I’ll tell you another thing, Miss Elwyn—”

“It’sMrs. Shawnow, Celia.”

“Whatever, Francine. It’s a title you’re supposed toearnas a good teacher, and I’ll tell you something. I’m not about to sit aside while those drama-crazy Walshes go on tearingourpack apart. No, ma’am!”

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