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Professor Astor: Chapter 35

Leia

My phone buzzes just as I finally start to concentrate on formatting the list of current sources for my dissertation, and I look up in annoyance. My heart drops when I realize it’s the kids’ school.

“Hello?” My voice wavers, a thousand thoughts going through my mind. Did one of them get hurt? Are they sick? The school wouldn’t call me unless something is wrong.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Sital. You’re listed as Colton Astor’s emergency contact, and we would like to request that you come in.”

“Is everything okay?” I ask, my phone stuck between my ear and my shoulder as I frantically pack all my papers.

“I’m afraid Colton has been in a fight. He’s not injured, but another student is.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Colton getting in a fight? How could that be? I’m worried sick as I rush over to the school, and by the time I reach the principal’s office, a thousand different scenarios have played through my mind.

I walk in to find Colton and Lucy standing in one corner, while a boy their age stands in the opposite corner, his eye badly bruised. That’s definitely going to turn blue. What could’ve possibly happened for sweet Colton to do something like that?

“Ms. Sital,” the principal says. I nod at him and glance at the woman sitting opposite the principal. The injured boy’s mother, I assume.

She looks at me, her gaze appraising, as though she’s trying to assess who I might be. “I won’t stand for this,” she screeches. “I assume you’re the nanny? I want to speak to the kids’ parents at once! You’re crazy if you think you’ll get away with harming my son!”

I glance at Colton and Lucy to check if they’re okay. They both seem upset. Both of their eyes are red, their posture the same, both of their arms crossed. Thankfully, they seem physically fine.

I turn to the principal and raise my chin. “I would appreciate it if you could tell me what I was called in for.”

“Did you not hear me?” the woman next to me screeches, and I glance at her in irritation.

“I’m not speaking to you,” I tell her curtly, before turning back to the principal.

“I didn’t come here for you to waste my time. Either start informing me why I was called in, or I’ll be taking my kids home right now. Both of them seem upset, and either you or they will tell me why that is. Who is it going to be?”

The principal looks taken aback, but I couldn’t care less. Not when I see tears in both Lucy and Colton’s eyes. Every fiber of my being is telling me that they’re hurt far more than they’re letting on, and I won’t sit here for a second longer than I need to.

“Am I correct to assume that you’re the kids’ nanny?” the principal asks.

I cross my arms and smile at him. “No. You’re incorrect to be assuming anything at all. I was called in because I’m the kids’ emergency contact, and I would like to know why.”

The woman next to me huffs. “Of course she’s the nanny,” she says. “The kids look nothing like her.”

I suppress the pain I feel at the statement, filing it away for later. She’s right, they don’t look like me, but they very much feel like mine, and right now, they’re in my care. That’s all that matters.

“During recess, Colton hit Mrs. Thom’s son, Steve. From what I understand, it’s because he was told that their nanny only shows them affection because she’s paid to do so. Colton didn’t take that well, and the two boys got into an altercation that escalated. Shortly after, Lucy joined in by grabbing the largest tree branch she could find and hitting Steve until teachers were able to separate them.”

I purse my lips to keep from laughing. That’s my girl. I must not hide my amusement well enough, because the lady next to me sits up and glares at me.

“Who was the instigator?” I ask the principal.

He shakes his head. “Colton says it was Steve, and Steve says it was Colton. At present, we are unsure, but the teachers are asking some of the other kids if they might have seen what happened.”

“I’m going to sue you so hard you’ll have to take them out of school. You’ll never recover from this,” the lady tells me. “I don’t care who started the fight. I just care that my son was assaulted.”

I turn to look at her and smile. “Were you present during recess?”

She falls silent, and I nod. I didn’t think so.

“What about you?” I ask the principal.

He hesitates, but then he shakes his head. “No teachers were present during the argument itself. Not until they intervened to separate the kids.”

I nod. “So this is all hearsay and you are unsure who the instigator was. What disciplinary action will you be taking?”

The principal’s eyes widen just a fraction, but that’s enough to tell me I’ve thrown him off. I’m not what he expected, as usual. “We’ll be suspending Lucy and Colton for the rest of the week.”

I nod. “Very well. What disciplinary action are you taking against the other child involved in the fight?”

He hesitates once more, and at this point, he’s just pissing me off. If he thinks he can suspend my kids when it was another who bullied them in the first place, he’s insane.

“My child was victimized! Why would they be taking disciplinary action against him?”

I lean back in my seat and face her. “My child has also been victimized. From what I understand, he’s been bullied. Not to mention, that scratch on his cheek wasn’t there this morning, and I doubt he put that on himself. Assault, you called it, didn’t you? Indeed. It looks like Colton has been assaulted.”

“We’ll be suspending all three children,” the principal eventually says.

“That’s not what we discussed,” crazy mom replies, but I merely nod.

I reach into my bag and pull out a business card, holding it up. “Since you’re insistent on suing me, go ahead and do so. I will let the Astor legal team know to expect a call.”

She tenses then. “Astor?” she asks.

I place the card down on the desk and slide it toward her. “Did I stutter?” I ask, entirely out of patience.

I rise from my seat, my jaws locked in anger as I glance at the principal. I won’t forget how he sought to blame the kids the second this crazy bitch started to make trouble. He’ll regret not doing his job.

“Let’s go home,” I tell Lucy and Colton.

They both jump out of their seats, both of them staring at the floor instead of looking me in the eye, and I sigh as I lead them out.

They’re quiet as we walk through the desolate school, and I can’t help but wonder if I handled that right. Today, more than ever, I wish I really was their mother. I had no right to respond the way I just did, but I have no regrets.

“Are you okay, Colton?” I ask when we reach the car.

He looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears, and I sink down to my knees in front of him.

“Are you hurt, sweetheart?”

He shakes his head. “Are you m-mad at me?” he asks, his voice breaking as tears fall from his eyes.

I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. “No, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. I will never be mad at you before asking for all the facts, so I need you to tell me what happened, and I need you to be honest with me.”

He wipes at his tears and sniffs loudly, trying to control his emotions and failing.

“Colt was bragging about how you play Minecraft with him, and Steve said you don’t really love us, and that you only hang out with us because Dad pays you to do that.”

Lucy sounds just as upset and Colton, her silent pleas for reassurance stabbing me right in the heart. “Your dad does pay me to watch you two,” I tell her honestly. “But he doesn’t pay me to play Minecraft with Colt, or to take you to the spa. He doesn’t pay me to cuddle with you or read to you, nor does he pay me to stay with you once he’s home. I do that because I enjoy spending time with you, because you two mean the world to me. Even if your dad fired me tomorrow, I’d still always be there for you. I’d still always love you. That would never change, you hear me? Even if someday, your dad and I don’t get along, I would still want to hang out with you if he’d let me.”

Lucy nods, a tear dropping down her cheek. “Come here,” I say, opening up my arms to hug them both, one of the kids leaning on each shoulder. I hold them tightly, my heart breaking.

I hope Mrs. Thom does sue. I hope she gives me an excuse to make her pay for making them cry.


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