Page 34 of Halo

Tatum hums in agreement. “If anything, you understand the stakes. You’re scared, but you’re not weak, Nick.”

I blow out a heavy breath, staring back out at the night. They’re right—at least I hope they're right. If there's even a chance that I can be the father Grady deserves, then I owe it to him to stop hiding behind my doubts, and just … try.

After cleaning up the balcony and wrestling a bit with the dogs, Jonathan and I caught the last inning of the Astros game before saying our goodbyes. My mind feels wrung dry from the whiplash of emotions today. Somewhere deep within the layers of my fatigue, there’s a tiny spark of hope, a gnawing of anticipation I can’t quite shake.

I know what I have to do.

Pulling out my phone, I toggle to Tiffany’s name and press Call.

Chapter 9

Leah

“Ms. Harrison?” One of my students tugs on my skirt. “Can I have a drink of water?”

I look at my watch. “You think you can wait for another six minutes? We’re about to head back inside.” He sweetly nods as I gently ruffle the back of his hair. “Go finish playing.”

Morning recess duty is one of my favorite requirements as a teacher. Kindergarteners don’t have the longest attention spans—children in general don’t—and even with interactive centers and hands-on learning, that’s a lot of information for little minds to process. As an educator, trying to contain twenty-two children under the age of six with that much pent-up energy is exhausting. Turning them loose on the playground for twenty minutes along with the other kindergarten classes is a win for everyone.

What makes it my favorite, though, is watching their creativity and personalities come out—when they forget I’m watching. Friendships are formed, new games are made-up. It’s chaos and loud and messy. And it’s absolutely crucial for learning.

“Look, miss! Look! Look!”

I twirl around to find a little girl with red pigtails holding a small green lizard. I playfully scream, hopping backward. “Lottie! You scared me there.”

“Isn't he cute?”

I crouch down, patting the little guy on his head. “I’m not sure if cute is the word I would use, but he’s pretty neat, huh?”

Her smile brightens, revealing a gap from a lost tooth. “Can we keep him?”

“We could,” I say thoughtfully, “but then he'd be away from all his lizard friends.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately falls.

I nudge her shoulder. “Tell you what. Why don't you put him back where you found him, and every day at recess, you can check on him?”

“Really?”

“Really. Just be gentle with him.”

Lottie nods eagerly before scampering off across the playground.

“Better check her pockets before you go inside,” Chelsea jokes, saddling up to me.

“I’m more worried about her washing her hands.” I chuckle. “What are you doing out here?”

“We’re learning about the weather.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder, her class dutifully drawing their observations. “I saw you over here away from the other teachers on duty, so I thought I’d come say hi.”

“Well, I’m so glad you did.”

A string of squeals captures our attention, prompting us to glance around the entire schoolyard. Every swing is taken, each child pumping their legs to go higher. Several kids push and squirm on the equipment, daring each other to cross the monkey bars or to go down the tallest slide. Other students run around, dodging one another playing tag.

My breath hitches. Grady is in the back corner of the sand box talking with three other boys. My heart soars. This quiet kid has been playing by himself since the beginning of the school year. He’s run into a few other students in other classes that have teased and bullied him, but this appears more promising.

“How was your shift this week?” Chelsea asks, referring to Low Places.

I shrug. “It was fine. Slow again, but it wasn’t bad.”