Virtuous(107)

I’m being fired, and there’s nothing I can do about it. As a contract employee with a charter school, I don’t benefit from the protection of a union. I’m completely on my own. And then I think about the children I’ve come to love in the months we’ve been together.

A sob erupts from my tightly clenched jaw. “You can’t fire me. My legal name is Natalie Bryant. I haven’t lied about anything.”

“None of this appeared in your background check, which leads us to wonder what else you’re hiding. We can’t take chances with the safety and security of our students. The decision has been made, and your contract has been voided. Please clean out your classroom immediately.”

She turns and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

For the longest time after she leaves, I stand perfectly still, trying to process what she’s told me. And then I begin to cry again, the sobs coming from deep inside me as eight years of hard work disappear in a wisp of smoke. After everything I’ve done to hide—changing my appearance, changing my name, changing my entire life—none of it protected me. My job, my classroom, my children, my new home, my new city… Everything has been taken from me, and there’s not a damned thing I can do, because she’s right. I did lie during my background check, but only to protect myself. Nothing I lied about put children at risk. I would never do that.

But what does it matter now?

Feeling like I’m hiking through quicksand, I find a box in the coatroom and take it to my desk, filling it with personal items that I’d brought to make my classroom homier for the children. I can barely see through the tears that blind me. I find the thank-you card that Logan gave me this morning, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.

Thank you, Miss Bryant, for making my mommy smile. You’re the best teacher in the whole wide world and I love you. Logan.

I fall to my knees, racked with sobs. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing him or any of my other children again. My heart is breaking into a million pieces.

Leah comes into the room, closing the door behind her. “Oh my God, Natalie! Did Stone Face really just fire you?”

I nod because I’m not capable of speech.

“She can’t do that! None of this is your fault. She’s a f*cking bitch.” Leah squats next to me and puts her arm around me. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. I’ll take care of getting your stuff tomorrow.”

I shake my head. I need a few minutes to myself before I can think of leaving, of facing the reporters who’ve descended upon my school, wanting a piece of me. It reminds me too much of the hell I went through during the trial, when everyone wanted a piece of me until there was almost nothing left.

“It’s okay, Leah.” I wipe my face, but it’s futile because the tears keep coming. “Go on home. I’ll see you there.”

“I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please… I’ll be fine.”

“Where’s Flynn? Does he know about this?”

Flynn… I’m ashamed that I haven’t thought of him once since Mrs. Heffernan stormed out. He must be out of his mind if he knows what’s happened. The poor guy will blame himself, when it’s my fault, not his.

The door flies open, and there he is, breathing hard, his gorgeous face stony with rage and fear and love. The love is so apparent, it’s all I see.

“I’ll take it from here, Leah.”

Leah stands and walks toward the door, squeezing his arm as she goes past him.

“Natalie…” He comes to me, drops to the floor and gathers me into his strong arms. He holds me so tightly, I know there will be bruises, but I’m so numb I can barely feel a thing.

I cling to him because I don’t know what else to do.

“Let’s get you out of here.”

“There’re reporters.”

“Let me worry about that.” He stands and helps me up. “Let’s get your coat on.”

“She fired me, Flynn. Mrs. Heffernan fired me. My stuff…”

“Leah will get it.” He grabs my purse and phone from my desk and hands them to me. Then he takes me by the arm and leads me out like he does it every day, taking me through the janitor’s closet to an exit I didn’t even know existed. My security team is waiting for us with two black SUVs with tinted windows.

I get into the backseat of the one Flynn directs me to. He gets in with me. He never lets go of my hand as we speed away from the school, my home away from home for the last five months.