The Boy Under His Wheels Isn't My Son

What did he just say?

Blood rushed to my head.

"You'd better wait right there. I'm calling the police now."

I reached for my phone, then remembered Owen had taken it from me. "Give me back my phone!"

Owen instinctively stepped back, hiding the phone behind him. "No way. You can't call the police!"

"Give it to me!"

I lunged at him. Owen yelped and dodged backward.

Principal Newman shouted from the side, "Stop him! Someone stop him!"

Two teachers rushed forward and grabbed my arms from both sides. I struggled with everything I had, but I couldn't break free.

Something cold flickered in Owen's eyes. "Quinn, don't blame me for this. I'm doing this for your own good. Once you calm down, you'll realize that 100 thousand dollars is better than making this a bigger mess."

"You killed someone, and now you're stopping me from calling the police. That's for my own good?"

I stared him down. Owen looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

Something had felt off about how he'd insisted on driving to pick up his kid today. He used to be terrified of driving. He'd even put off getting his license for years because of that.

Principal Newman sighed. "Alright, enough of this. The child's already gone. Making a scene won't help."

"Tell you what, I'll add another 20 thousand. 120 thousand dollars total. That's my final offer. Take the money, go home, and handle the funeral properly."

I looked at them, then suddenly laughed. "Principal Newman, do you know whose child just died?"

Principal Newman frowned. "Isn't it your son?"

Owen turned to look at me too.

I forced a smile. "My son has a fever. He didn't even come to kindergarten today."

Owen's expression froze. "What did you say?"

"I said Elliot has a fever. My mother's watching him at home. He never came to school."

Owen shot to his feet. "That's impossible! It can't be! That kid's wearing the same clothes as Elliot. I saw it clearly!"

"The clothes might be the same, but the person isn't."

Principal Newman reacted the fastest, immediately changing his tune. "Oh! So it was a misunderstanding! Then whose child is this? Someone contact the parents immediately!"

He turned to the teachers. "Go check which class has a child absent today. Figure out who this is!"

I watched him coldly. "A minute ago, you said it was my son and wanted to settle this privately. Now that you know it's not, suddenly you're in a hurry to find the parents?"

Principal Newman's smile froze.

Owen's expression shifted. He seemed to think of something, then moved closer and tugged at my sleeve.

"Quinn, I was wrong just now. Don't take it to heart. Look, since this isn't your son, it has nothing to do with you anymore. Why don't you head home? We'll handle it from here."

Nothing to do with me? I looked at his face and suddenly felt as though he were a stranger.

"Funny how it involved me when you were grabbing my phone a minute ago."

Owen's expression changed. I couldn't be bothered with him anymore. I turned and walked toward the child.

It didn't matter whose child it was. I couldn't just leave him lying there like this. But I'd only taken two steps when a voice spoke up behind me.

"Wait, that doesn't seem right. I remember your son came to school this morning."

I stopped in my tracks. "What did you say?"

One of the teachers spoke up hesitantly. "I was at the gate this morning, greeting the children. I saw Elliot come in with my own eyes. He was wearing that blue hoodie."

My stomach dropped. "That's impossible! Elliot has a fever. He didn't come today!"

"I really did see him!" The young teacher grew anxious. "I even said hello to him. He greeted me and everything!"

Another teacher nearby nodded. "That's right, I saw him too. He even waved at me."

I stood there frozen, my head spinning. Owen looked at the teachers, then at me. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Quinn, didn't you say Elliot didn't come to school? How come so many teachers saw him then? They can't all be seeing things, can they? Maybe you're just too upset and got confused?"