The Boy Under His Wheels Isn't My Son

I clenched my fists. "That's impossible! My mother's home with him. He couldn't have come!"

Owen laughed mockingly. "Then call and ask. That'll settle it, won't it?"

He held out the phone to me. I stared at his face, suddenly uneasy.

I took the phone, my hand shaking as I dialed. After a few rings, someone picked up.

"Hello? Quinn?"

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. "Mom, is Elliot with you?"

"Elliot?" My mother paused. "Elliot went to school."

My head spun. "He had a fever. I thought he wasn't going?"

"His fever broke this morning. He insisted on going and said that he'd made plans with his friends." She sounded so casual. "I dropped him off at the gate myself. Why? What's wrong?"

I opened my mouth, but my throat felt blocked.

"Hello? Quinn? What happened?" She was still talking, but I couldn't hear her anymore.

The phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground with a sharp crack. I turned slowly, staring at the small body on the ground.

That blue hoodie. It was the exact same blue hoodie as Elliot's.

Could it really be him?

I walked over and pulled back the cloth covering the child's face. There was only blood and torn flesh. His features were unrecognizable.

Something inside me shattered. A wail tore from my throat.

Owen approached, trying to console me. "Quinn, is it really Elliot? Listen, don't be too upset. There's nothing we can do now—"

I shoved him away and lunged forward, grabbing his collar. "You killed him!"

Owen stumbled and fell, looking aggrieved. "Quinn! I already told you it wasn't on purpose! What are you doing?"

"Not on purpose? It sure seemed pretty deliberate when you grabbed my phone and wouldn't let me call for help."

Owen's face went stiff for a moment.

Principal Newman rushed over to intervene. "Alright, alright, everyone calm down! What's done is done. The most important thing now is handling the funeral arrangements!"

Funeral arrangements?

I turned to look at him, my eyes burning. "You weren't so concerned about doing the right thing five minutes ago."

Principal Newman's expression darkened.

Owen pulled himself up from the ground and brushed the dust off his clothes. The wounded look on his face slowly gave way to irritation.

"I already apologized. What more do you want? Do you want to beat me to death?"

"Apologized?" I stared him down. "You killed my son, stole my phone, stopped me from calling an ambulance, and now one apology makes everything okay?"

"Then what do you want?" Owen's voice rose. "Didn't I say it wasn't on purpose? I'm willing to pay! What else do you want me to do?"

He looked at me with venom in his eyes. "I was trying to comfort you, and you pushed me. Look at you, acting like a lunatic. If I didn't feel sorry for you for losing your son, I wouldn't bother with you at all!"

He turned to Principal Newman. "Principal, have someone pull him away. Get the child taken care of. The sooner we lay him to rest, the better."

Principal Newman nodded and waved at the teachers. "Pull him back."

Two teachers moved forward and grabbed my arms from both sides, trying to drag me away.

"Let go of me!" I fought against them. "Don't touch my son!"

A hand suddenly struck across my face. My head snapped to the side, and blood seeped from the corner of my mouth.

Owen lowered his hand, breathing hard as he glared at me. "Have you made enough of a scene? Are you going to let us move him or not?"

I held my face, pure hatred coursing through me. I was about to fight back when a voice suddenly called out from behind me.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

I turned around and froze. Elliot stood at the gate, completely unharmed.

Then who the hell was the dead child?