The school's counseling room was too bright.
Soft-colored walls, posters about safety and kindness, a shelf of picture books lined up in perfect order.
None of it made Elena feel any safer.
She sat on the small sofa, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles ached. Her heartbeat was still caught at the school gate, replaying the moment—
A strange hand reaching.
Ethan's name spoken by an unfamiliar mouth.
Adrian's voice cutting through the noise.
Don't touch him.
She swallowed.
Across from her, Adrian stood instead of sitting. He hadn't taken the offered chair. His shoulders were rigid, one hand loosely fisted at his side, the other shoved into his pocket like he needed something to anchor himself.
The school counselor cleared her throat gently.
"Thank you both for coming inside," she said, hands folded over a file. "The children are safe. Ethan is with his homeroom teacher right now. We just… need to talk through what happened."
Elena forced herself to nod.
Adrian's jaw worked, but he stayed silent.
"The man at the gate," the counselor continued, "claimed he was asking for directions at first. But one of the staff overheard him say Ethan's full name. That's why we intervened."
She opened the file, sliding out a simple incident form.
"The security guard got part of the license plate. We've already forwarded it to the local authorities. However…" Her gaze flicked between them. "Given that this isn't the first time we've had unusual inquiries about Ethan's records, we need to review his guardianship information with you, Ms. Moore."
Elena's fingers tightened.
"Unusual inquiries?" Adrian said, his voice low, dangerous under the polite tone. "What kind of inquiries?"
The counselor hesitated.
"Requests to confirm his attendance, his schedule, his emergency contacts. Some came through official channels. Some…" She bit her lip. "Some were vague. We've denied anything that didn't look standard, but today's incident suggests someone is… more persistent than we realized."
Adrian's eyes darkened.
"Elena," he said quietly, not looking at her, "this isn't random."
Her name in his mouth still felt like a wound.
"I know," she replied, just as quietly.
The counselor shifted.
"For Ethan's safety, we need to set stricter protocols. Only pre-approved adults can pick him up. We'll need updated forms. And—"
She hesitated.
"We'll have to ask if there are any ongoing legal or family disputes that might put him at risk. It'll help us work with the authorities if something like this happens again."
Elena's breath stuttered.
Legal.
Family.
Risk.
All the words she'd been running from for five years sat down beside her on the small sofa.
Before she could answer, Adrian spoke.
"There are internal disputes on my side," he said evenly. "Nothing that should touch him. But clearly, they already have."
The counselor blinked.
"Mr…?"
"Blackwood," he said.
The name dropped into the room like a stone into still water.
The counselor straightened, recognition flashing across her face.
Everyone knew that name.
"I see," she said faintly. "If internal corporate matters are affecting a student's safety, we may need formal statements."
Adrian's expression didn't change.
"You'll have them," he replied. "For now, your staff did the right thing. No one—not the company, not anyone associated with it—has the right to approach him here."
His gaze slid to Elena, finally meeting her eyes.
"Unless his mother approves it."
The counselor looked relieved, like someone had just handed her a rule to follow.
"I'll give you both the updated guardianship documents to review," she said. "For today, I recommend Ethan goes home early. He's shaken, even if he's trying not to show it."
Of course he was.
He was five.
He shouldn't know what it was like to be targeted.
"We'll bring him in," she added, and stepped out, closing the door softly behind her.
The silence she left behind was heavier than the conversation.
---
Elena stared at the closed door.
Her voice, when it finally emerged, sounded scraped thin.
"You shouldn't have come."
Adrian didn't flinch.
"If I hadn't," he said, "who would have pulled him away?"
Her fingers dug into the soft fabric of the sofa.
"I could have—"
"You weren't there yet."
The words weren't an accusation.
That somehow made them worse.
She exhaled shakily.
"You being here only paints a bigger target," she whispered. "Your name. Your world. Everything tied to you—it's what's making this worse."
His eyes sharpened.
"You think this started because of me?" he asked quietly.
Her laugh was soft and humorless.
"I think your world is a fire," she said. "And anyone who stands too close gets burned."
Something flickered in his gaze—pain, then something colder.
"That fire is what's between them and him right now," he replied. "Whatever you think of me, this—" he gestured toward the door, toward the hall where Ethan sat with his teacher, "—is not about our past anymore."
She looked up sharply.
"You think I don't know that?"
"I think," he said, voice steady, "you are still trying to fight this alone."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
"I've been alone for five years."
"And how has that worked out?" he asked.
She opened her eyes again, anger flashing through the fear.
"At least he was safe," she hissed.
"No," Adrian said, and the word cut cleaner than a shout.
"He was hidden. That's not the same."
Her reply died in her throat.
Hidden.
Not safe.
She'd always told herself the two were identical.
Apparently, even her illusions had cracks.
---
The door opened again.
"Ms. Moore? Mr. Blackwood?"
Ethan stood in the doorway, his small hand in his teacher's.
He looked smaller than usual in the school corridor light.
Like the world had grown larger around him, all at once.
"Mommy," he said, and the word trembled, "they said we can go home."
Elena rose immediately, crossing the room in three steps.
She dropped to her knees in front of him.
"Are you okay?" she asked, cupping his face gently.
He hesitated. His eyes flicked over her shoulder.
Adrian had moved closer without meaning to, stopping a few feet away.
"I'm fine," Ethan said. Then added, too quickly, "Nobody touched me."
The teacher cleared her throat.
"He stayed near me the whole time after the incident," she said softly. "But he's… observant. He noticed everyone was tense."
Ethan bit his lip.
"I didn't like the way that man said my name," he admitted, his voice very small. "It felt… wrong. Like he already knew it."
Elena's stomach twisted.
Adrian's hands curled at his sides.
The teacher glanced between them.
"We'll… give you a moment," she murmured, and left them alone.
---
Ethan looked from his mother to Adrian.
"Is something bad happening?" he asked.
The question was simple.
It carried the weight of everything they hadn't said.
Elena inhaled slowly.
"We're just being careful," she said.
She hated how thin the words sounded.
Ethan's gaze moved to Adrian.
"Are you… being careful too?" he asked.
Adrian's throat worked.
"Yes," he said. "That's why I was here."
Ethan studied him, then stepped a little closer.
"I saw you," he said earnestly. "You were angry. Not at me. At… the other man."
Adrian blinked.
"Yes," he replied quietly. "Not at you."
Ethan thought about this.
Then, very deliberately, he reached out—
And wrapped his fingers around Adrian's hand.
Not instead of Elena's.
Not choosing one over the other.
Just… holding both.
One small hand in each of theirs.
The contact sent a silent shock through the room.
Elena's breath hitched.
"Ethan—"
"If something bad happens," Ethan said carefully, as if choosing each word with the seriousness of an adult, "then… if I stay between you, it's safer, right?"
His logic was a child's.
His instinct was terrifyingly accurate.
Elena's eyes stung.
Adrian stared at their joined hands, something like surrender bleeding into his features.
"That's not your job," he said hoarsely.
"It feels like it is," Ethan said simply.
Silence followed.
Then Elena exhaled, something in her chest cracking open.
"Ethan," she whispered, "you shouldn't have to think like this."
He shrugged a little, shoulders shaking.
"But… I'm scared too," he said. "And when I'm scared, I want you both."
Elena closed her eyes.
She was so, so tired of running.
When she opened them again, she looked at Adrian over Ethan's head.
"Fine," she said, voice low. "For now… we do this together."
It wasn't an apology.
It wasn't forgiveness.
It was a line drawn and stepped across at the same time.
Adrian's gaze held hers.
"Together," he agreed.
His voice wasn't triumphant.
It was heavy.
Like the word itself carried more weight than either of them knew how to lift.
---
A few minutes later, they sat in the counselor's office again.
The updated guardianship form lay on the table.
Elena's name was already there.
Emergency contact: Sophie Carter.
A blank space waited beneath it.
Second guardian: _______________________
The pen rested near her fingers.
"This is optional," the counselor said gently. "But—given what happened today, it may be wise to add another adult who has legal authority to speak for Ethan in emergencies."
Elena's heartbeat roared in her ears.
Adrian didn't reach for the pen.
He didn't push it toward her, either.
He stayed utterly still.
"This isn't just a line on a form," she murmured.
"I know," he said.
"If I write your name here," she continued, "you'll be… officially tied to him. To us. If anything happens, they'll look at you first."
"I know," he said again.
"And Catherine—"
"Will know exactly where to aim," he finished.
Their eyes met.
He held her gaze, steady.
"I told you," he said quietly, "I've already stepped into this. The question isn't whether I'm in danger. It's whether you want Ethan to stand alone when someone asks who can stand with him."
The room seemed to tilt.
She looked down at the form again.
Second guardian.
It wasn't asking for a confession.
Not asking for father.
Just a name.
A choice.
Her hand trembled as she picked up the pen.
Ethan watched from the chair beside her, legs swinging under the seat, eyes serious.
"Mommy?" he whispered.
She glanced at him.
His lips parted like he wanted to ask something—then he simply said:
"I trust you."
That did it.
She looked back at the form.
The tip of the pen hovered over the blank line.
A breath in.
A lifetime of fear behind it.
Slowly, she wrote:
> Adrian Blackwood
The ink looked darker than it should have.
The counselor exhaled in quiet relief.
"Thank you," she said. "This will make it easier for us to protect Ethan on our side as well."
Protect.
The word didn't feel like a promise anymore.
It felt like a contract.
Elena set the pen down.
She didn't look at Adrian, but she felt the way the air shifted between them.
For the first time, they were not divided by distance.
They were divided by a line both of them had just agreed to stand on.
---
As they stepped out of the office together, the late afternoon light slanted across the school courtyard.
Parents came and went.
Cars pulled up.
Children laughed, shouted, tugged at backpacks.
A normal day.
It didn't feel normal.
Ethan held both their hands.
"Can we go home now?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," Elena said.
Adrian nodded once.
For a brief, fragile moment, they moved in the same direction.
Watching the same shadows.
Knowing—
That somewhere not far enough away,
danger was learning their names.
And now, for better or worse,
they would face it
not as strangers on separate paths,
but as three people standing inside the same circle.
🌹 Chapter 37 Pacing & Structure Analysis (Webnovel Viral Beat Pattern)
Pacing Beat Function
1. This chapter shifts from the instant danger at the school gate to the real-world consequences that follow.
2. The school system (teachers, principal, security) steps in, making the incident no longer a private secret between two adults.
3. Elena and Adrian are forced to sit side by side as guardians, presenting a united front to the outside world for the first time.
4. In private, their emotional clash reveals two different fears:
• He fears losing them.
• She fears his world destroying their child.
5. School surveillance or records provide the first piece of hard evidence they can't ignore, giving the threat a concrete shape.
6. Ethan's simple line—feeling safer when Adrian is there—pulls the emotional line toward a reluctant alliance.
💬
Have you ever stood next to someone you didn't fully trust…
just because the world outside felt even more dangerous?
👉 Tell me in the comments — I'm curious.
⚔️ Suspense Focus:
The danger has a face now,
and for the first time,
they may have to stand on the same side to face it.
Hook Sentence:
> English: When danger learns your name, standing alone stops being an option.