Sally's POV
The day I laid my parents to rest, clutching my newborn son while my frightened teenage sister pressed against my side, I swore an oath to myself: survive at any cost.
"I'm truly sorry, Sally, but my hands are tied. Warren has sent another student to the emergency room. Following district protocol, we have no alternative but to permanently expel him," Mrs Nia declares from behind her imposing desk.
"This was clearly accidental. He would never deliberately harm anyone, least of all his closest friend," I counter, my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest. How can they destroy a child's future over one terrible mistake?
"I'm certain his intentions weren't malicious, but the outcome remains unchanged. My responsibility is to protect every student in this building. Unfortunately, that means Warren can no longer remain here. I'll be drafting a referral letter for specialized behavioral programs that might better serve his needs," Mrs Nia offers with practiced sympathy.
"So you're abandoning him completely?" The words taste bitter as they leave my mouth, fury and desperation warring in my stomach.
"Absolutely not, we simply believe..."
"Save it. Keep your referral letter. We don't need your charity," I snap, shooting to my feet and marching toward the door.
My son waits in the hallway, his cherubic face brightening the moment he spots me. The innocence in those blue eyes makes my heart crack.
"Come on, sweetheart, time to go home." I force brightness into my voice, extending my hand while burying the rage clawing at my throat.
Warren's tiny fingers curl around mine as he waves cheerfully at Mrs Nia through the open doorway. The casual gesture twists the knife deeper.
"I'm sorry, Mommy," Warren whispers as I lean my forehead against the steering wheel, fighting back tears that threaten to spill.
At six years old, he shouldn't witness his mother falling apart. He's gentle and loving, brilliant beyond his years, but lately this overwhelming strength surges through him without warning. Watching him struggle breaks something inside me daily.
"Everything will work out, baby. I promise," I manage, twisting around to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror with a manufactured smile.
"I'll apologize to Denzel tomorrow. I swear I will," he declares solemnly, those enormous blue eyes radiating pure sincerity.
How do I explain that tomorrow will never come? That his school days are over, his friendships severed? That we'll be fortunate if Denzel's parents don't press charges?
"A little break might be good for everyone. Maybe you could create something special for Denzel, and we'll deliver it this weekend. How does that sound?" I suggest, starting the engine.
"Yes! I'll make him the biggest robot ever with laser cannons! Denzel loves robots!" Warren shouts, immediately launching into robot impressions that fill the car with mechanical sounds and giggles.
Billy's sedan sits in our driveway when we arrive home. My stomach drops. Explaining Warren's expulsion to my husband feels like preparing for battle.
We've been married for over two years, and while Billy tries to be a decent stepfather, his patience with Warren has been wearing dangerously thin. Every conversation about my son's behavior becomes a lecture about bad genetics and inevitable doom. I suspect his growing resentment has little to do with discipline and everything to do with whose blood runs through Warren's veins.
"Can we have pizza tonight, Mommy? Billy really likes it," Warren suggests as we enter the house.
I pause in the foyer, listening for movement upstairs. The shower runs in our bedroom. "Pizza sounds perfect," I agree. "Why don't you head to your room and work on that special project for Denzel? I'll call you when dinner's ready."
Warren bounds up the stairs while I retrieve a frozen pizza from the freezer. My phone chimes just as the oven timer starts counting down.
The scout leader's message makes my blood run cold. Warren is banned from the group effective immediately due to today's incident and parental concerns. Word travels at lightning speed in small towns.
How quickly an entire community can turn against a child. Yes, pushing his friend was wrong, but Warren couldn't have predicted that Denzel would fall and need stitches. Children scuffle constantly at that age. My son's unusual strength doesn't make him a monster.
"I'm heading out," Billy announces, breezing past the kitchen without his usual kiss.
"Where are you going? I made dinner, and we really need to discuss what happened today," I call after him.
"Meeting some friends. I'll grab food there. Don't wait up," he replies, already reaching for the door handle.
"Billy, please wait. I need to tell you about..."
"Warren got expelled," Billy interrupts coldly. "I already heard. Can't say I'm shocked. I warned you he'd turn out exactly like his worthless father."
The front door slams before I can respond. How did he find out so quickly? Did the school contact him directly?
I don't understand Billy's venomous hatred toward Karl. They've never met, and Billy only knows secondhand gossip and rumors. Yes, Karl had his demons, but he wasn't the villain Billy paints him to be.
Karl had survived the foster system and relentless bullying at school. When he started college, he carried that defensive anger like armor, quick to fight anyone who looked at him wrong. But with me, he was tender and patient. Even though his interest was obvious, he never pressured me. On the night before his eighteenth birthday, I made the choice to be with him. Our birthdays fell just two days apart, and he used to tease me about being a cougar for those forty-eight hours.
The morning after our clumsy first time in his tiny dorm room, I woke up alone. Karl had vanished. His phone went straight to voicemail, and he never returned to classes. I haunted his apartment building for weeks, but no one ever answered.
When I discovered my pregnancy weeks later, finding him became my obsession. A sympathetic neighbor eventually revealed that his foster family had packed up and disappeared overnight. It took months to accept that my Karl, who whispered promises and future plans in the dark, had simply walked away without a word.
After putting Warren to bed and enduring another evening alone, I head upstairs for a shower. While gathering laundry, something glowing catches my attention in Billy's pants pocket. His work phone.
I set it on the bathroom counter, grateful I noticed before throwing his clothes in the washer. The hot water feels therapeutic against my tense shoulders, but persistent buzzing interrupts my peace.
Who needs a sporting goods store employee this late? Annoyed by the constant noise, I step out to silence the device, but the preview messages on the screen stop me cold.
Multiple texts from someone named Chelsea fill the screen.
Chelsea: I miss you so much.
Chelsea: When are you telling her?
Chelsea: Thank you for today. I love you.
The phone slips from my trembling fingers.
My husband is cheating.
A sob tears from my throat as reality crashes down. I knew we'd been struggling, but I never imagined betrayal. Why am I never enough? Why does everyone I love eventually abandon me?
Wrapping myself in a towel, I stumble to the bedroom and dial the only person who's never let me down. My sister Juliette, now studying veterinary medicine several states away.
She answers immediately, listening as I pour out everything. Warren's expulsion, the scout group rejection, Billy's affair, all of it tumbling out between broken sobs.
"Sally, you need to leave that toxic place behind. There's this adorable rental house near my university. I looked at it today, but the commute would be impossible without a car. Two bedrooms, fully furnished, in the sweetest little town you've ever seen. Pack everything and start fresh here with me. There's nothing left for you there," Juliette urges.
"But what if..."
"He's not worth fighting for, Sally. Don't give him another chance to destroy you," she interrupts firmly.
Tears blur my vision, but clarity cuts through the pain. She's absolutely right. Nothing remains here except ghosts and heartbreak. Juliette has moved on, my parents are gone, Warren has no school, Billy is choosing another woman, and I accepted long ago that Karl isn't coming back. Why cling to a place that holds more trauma than joy?
A fresh start wouldn't be complicated. My editing work travels anywhere with internet, and without school obligations, we're truly free to go. Juliette understands exactly what we need.
"Okay, Jules. Send me everything about that house."