Chapter 7
1156 Words
I push the door open before the driver can reach it.
Cool air hits sharp and fast, but I’m already moving.
“Arielle,” he says behind me.
I keep walking.
The woman with the tablet steps forward automatically. “Ma’am, we can handle –”
“No,” I cut in, walking past her toward the glass doors. “You can’t.”
My hands feel steadier than my breathing. The photo is still burned behind my eyes.
School gate. Backpack. Morning light.
It's a recent picture.
He catches up beside me in three strides. “You shouldn’t be outside the vehicle.”
“You shouldn’t have brought me here without telling me my son was already in the headlines.”
“That headline is speculation.”
“That photo isn’t.”
We enter the terminal. It’s quieter than the main airport, but not empty. Two staff members glance up then immediately away the moment they recognize him.
I turn toward him fully. “When was that taken?”
He doesn’t pretend to be confused, once again, “Within the hour.”
My stomach drops once. Hard.
“You’re certain.”
“Yes.”
I pull my phone out and dial before thinking.
It rings…Once. Twice.
My mother answers. “You forgot his lunch bag.”
Relief hits too fast and leaves just as quickly, “Where is he?”
“At school.”
“Did anyone ask about him this morning after I left?”
She paused, “Why would someone ask –”
“Just answer.”
“No. Arielle, what’s –”
“I’ll call back.”
I hung up.
He watches me, “They won’t approach directly yet.”
“Yet.”
“They’re confirming before acting.”
My fingers tighten around the phone. “You speak like this is routine.”
“It is.”
I hate that answer.
The woman from outside approaches carefully. “Boarding is ready.”
I ignore her. “Who leaked it?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You always know.”
“Not immediately.”
I held his gaze before saying, “Someone knew about him before you came to me.”
“Yes.”
Silence sits heavier than before.
“That means they watched long enough to connect us,” I say quietly.
“Yes.”
My pulse shifts again. “Then staying here is worse.”
“Yes.”
I exhale slowly, steadying myself. “Fine.”
The word surprises both of us.
His expression barely changes but the tension in his shoulders does.
We walk toward the aircraft doors together, neither leading.
Halfway there my phone vibrates again. Unknown number.
I almost ignored it, then answered. “Yes?”
A female voice responds carefully. “Mrs. Cruz? This is Luca’s school office.”
Every muscle locks.
“Okay?”
“Someone called asking if a different guardian would be picking him up today.”
My vision narrows slightly. “Who?”
“They didn’t give a name. Said they were confirming dismissal authorization.”
My hand closes around the back of a chair near the waiting area before I realize I stopped walking, and notice he has stopped beside me.
“What did you tell them?” I ask.
“Only approved contacts may collect him.”
“Did they come in person?”
“No, just a call.”
I swallow once. “Call me if anyone does.”
“Of course.”
I end the call.
For a second the terminal noise fades. People move normally around us… a man types into a laptop at the corner table, someone laughs softly into a headset... The calm feels staged, like the building refuses to acknowledge urgency.
“He’s being checked,” I say.
“Yes.”
“Not watched anymore. Checked.”
“Yes.”
The meaning settles.
I look at the plane waiting beyond the glass, then back at him.
“Show me again,” I say.
He doesn’t argue. The tablet appears in his hand a second later and the image loads slower this time.
Same gate, same backpack... Luca’s shoelace, always slightly loose because he refuses double knots. My chest tightens before I can stop it.
“Zoom,” I say.
He does.
The timestamp sits in the corner.
Today.
I look up. “That means someone was there already when school opened and when I dropped him off before returning home.”
“Yes.”
“Not the media,” I say.
“No.”
I hand the tablet back harder than necessary. “You knew before you came to my office?”
“I suspected.”
“You confirmed and still waited to tell me.”
“I confirmed as I was telling you.”
Anger rises fast and sharp. “Couldn’t you have led with that?”
“You wouldn’t have listened.”
“That was not your decision to make.”
He holds my gaze. “You’re listening now.”
I hate that he’s right.
I pace once across the polished floor, then back again. My phone remains tight in my grip even when it isn’t ringing.
“Whoever leaked this,” I say, more to myself than him, “knows routines.”
“Yes.”
“Drop-off times, entry points… Guardians.”
“Yes.”
My throat feels dry. “That’s not random interest.”
“No.”
I stop pacing. “That’s preparation.”
A beat passes, then I dial again.
Eve answers immediately. “Ari?”
“I need you to go to my apartment.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. And don’t go alone.”
Her tone changes instantly. “What’s happening?”
“Just do it.”
“I’m on my way.”
I hang up before questions grow.
He watches me carefully. “Good.”
I turn sharply. “Don’t approve of my decisions.”
“I’m acknowledging them.”
“Same thing in your world.”
“Yeah but not yours.”
Silence sits again, but different now. Less argument and more calculation going on in my head.
The assistant approaches once more, quieter this time. “We should depart before additional press reaches this terminal.”
I look at him. “They know about the school.”
His jaw tightens slightly. “I assumed they might.”
“That isn’t enough anymore.”
“No.”
I inhale slowly.
“I’m coming,” I say.
Not because he arranged it but because staying is no longer safer.
We walk the remaining distance without speaking.
At the aircraft steps I pause… Not because of hesitation.
But everything changed in less than an hour and I don't know how I feel about it all.
He waits beside me, not touching, not guiding, and for the first time, the silence between us feels shared instead of divided.
I stepped onto the first stair and inhaled sharply.
- Writer
