Four
658 Words
I turn to face the man I haven’t been able to forget.
I’m braced for it — the judgment, the lecture, the look that says bad mother.
But he doesn’t look at me.
He crouches in front of my son.
“Here, buddy. The Kit Kats I promised.”
My spine stiffens. “What did I say about taking food from strangers?”
“Relax,” he says, finally acknowledging me. “He was hungry. I offered to share so he’d know it was safe.”
“Well, thanks, but he doesn’t need them. We’re leaving to get food.”
“He can have them later.” His tone is calm. Too calm. “Here, buddy.”
It feels like a power play. My son looks between us, unsure. He’s already had a long day.
“Fine,” I say. “You can have them.”
He takes them quietly. “Thank you.”
I stand. “What are you even doing here? Do you just hang around here all day?”
His jaw tightens. “I was leaving a board meeting when I saw him alone. I approached out of concern.”
“Concern, my ass.”
I grab my son's hand. “Say goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Flavian,” my son says softly.
I don’t look back as we walk to the car.
when we get to the cafe We eat too much sugar. I let him laugh. Let him tell me about math class. Let the guilt sit in my chest like a stone while I pretend everything is normal.
When we get home, I call Luna. Work didn’t explode. Small miracle.
“Shower, then homework, then bed,” I tell Flavian.
He runs upstairs.
I’m sorting mail when there’s a knock.
Almost eight.
Desiree always texts first.
I open the door.
A police officer stands beside a woman dressed in bright, almost cheerful colors.
“Miss Fiona Carlisle?”
My mouth goes dry. “Yes.”
“My name is Tiffany Farrow. Social services. We received a formal complaint regarding possible child neglect. We’d like to come in.”
They step inside before I answer.
The room shrinks.
“Mommy?” Flavian stands at the stairs.
“Go upstairs, baby. Now.”
He goes.
I turn back. “Was this really necessary? With a cop?”
“its just Protocol,” she says gently. “We just need to ask a few questions.”
I don’t remember walking to the couch or sitting down.
“A report was filed earlier today,” she says. “ i was assigned the case to investigate and since i was in the area already i decided to stop by.”
The officer says nothing. Just watches.
“We’ll speak with your son, teachers, possibly neighbors and friends. mostly routine questions”
Routine.
Like my life isn’t hanging by a thread.
“Will you take him away?”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’re not here to remove anyone. Your home appears safe at this time but we have to make sure everything is working in your sons best interest. we will just follow procedure.”
She hands me a card.
“I’ll return tomorrow to speak with him. in the mean time Try not to do anything that escalates these concerns. Small things like this can spiral.”
My hands are shaking. “I understand.”
They leave.
The door clicks shut.
Silence crashes in.
It must have been him.
Flavian Navarro.
The man with calm eyes and controlled words.
I press my back to the door, breathing like I’ve just run for miles.
One mistake.
That’s all it takes when you’re a young single mother with a record of “poor decisions.”
They’re already waiting for you to fail.
My chest tightens.
They will not take my son.
I don’t care what I have to do, i'm not going to lose him.
- Writer
