Page 63 of One More Chance
The man’s voice cracked as he said it. The shutdown wasn’t a temporary inconvenience: it was a total reset. A forced pause on everything we had known, everything we had taken for granted.
“Please,” the president added, “stay home as much as possible. For your safety and the safety of your loved ones, remain inside. We will get through this, but only if we act quickly and responsibly.”
I sat there for a long time, staring at the screen long after the address ended, the echo of his words lingering in my mind:stay home,wear masks,don’t go out unless necessary. I thought about Sloane, about the kids, and about the business.
The world was shutting down and no one had any idea how long it would last except me.
I forced myself to focus. Things were about to change. And they were about to change fast.
Chapter 22
Later that day, the sky was overcast as I pulled into the school parking lot. The presidential announcement was still rattling through my mind. The line of parents in the pickup line stretched farther than usual, cars idling, faces drawn with confusion and fear. Teachers and staff rushed to hand out papers, calling out names, ushering kids into vehicles as if we were evacuating for a hurricane rather than just going home.
But this was a storm. Just a different kind.
Violet was the first to spot me. Her tiny frame seemed even smaller under her huge backpack, which sagged with hastily packed folders and books. She wasn’t smiling. Her mouth was pinched tight, and her eyes were glassy as they darted around. I knew she was trying to make sense of the senseless chaos her school had erupted into.
Liam trailed behind her, earbuds tangled in his hand, face pale and distant. He didn’t even try to act cool like he usually did. Just climbed into the passenger seat silently while Violet buckled into the back.
"Hey, guys," I said as I put the truck into drive. "How was school?"
“Scary,” Violet said without hesitation. “They made us clean everything. They said we weren’t coming back for a long time. Like, weeks.”
Liam snorted, a bitter sound for someone so young. “They said maybe after winter break, but they were lying. Mr. Caldwell looked really freaked out. He kept staring at his phone during class.”
I glanced at them through the rearview mirror and kept my voice calm. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll do school from home for a while. Your teachers will send stuff online, and I’ll help where I can.”
Violet looked like she might cry. “But I don’t want to stay home. What about art class? And Mrs. Ortega said we might not have our recital.”
I felt my chest tighten. I wanted to fix it. To promise them this was temporary… but I knew better. I’d lived through this pandemic once already.
“I know it sucks, sweetheart,” I said. “But we’ll make the best of it, okay? We’ll do projects at home. I’ll set up a space just for you guys to work. You’ll still talk to your friends. You’ll see.”
Liam scoffed, not mean, just tired. “Dad, it’s not going to be the same. They’re saying people are dying. Mom’s pregnant. What if she gets sick?”
That blasted the wind right out of me. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and chose my words carefully. “She is being careful. We are all going to be careful. That’s why they’re sending everyone home… to keep you and her safe. To give the hospitals a chance to catch up.”
Violet sniffled. “Will we get to see you?”
I glanced at her through the mirror again. Her eyes looked so big, full of questions no kid should have to ask.
“I'm not going anywhere," I said. "I live as the golem in the guest room, remember?"
A small chuckle from the kids and then no one spoke for awhile.
I looked at their faces in the rearview: scared, uncertain, on the edge of something they didn't understand yet. I knew I had to hold it together, even if the world outside was cracking apart. This was just the beginning. But the kids had me now. And I’d be damned if I let them go through this alone.
As we turned down the winding road toward home, my phone buzzed against the console. I reached for it at a stop sign, glancing down at the screen.
Hey, I’m stuck at work. We’re short-staffed and slammed. Can you help the kids with their assignments and dinner tonight? I might not be home until late.
I stared at the message for a beat longer than I needed to. She must not have seen the announcement, too caught up in the clinic. I didn't want to cause more stress for her.
The weight of everything, the shutdown, the fear in the kids’ eyes, Sloane throwing herself right back into her job settled in my chest like wet cement. I should have felt burdened or overwhelmed, but honestly? I welcomed the responsibility. I needed it.
Of course. I’ve got them covered. Don’t worry about a thing. Just get through your shift.
She didn’t respond right away, but I imagined her in that cramped breakroom at the clinic, rubbing the bridge of her nose, exhausted and overworked, trying to shield her growing nausea from coworkers who probably hadn’t even heard the news in full yet. She was carrying more than I could fathom, and this time, I refused to let her carry it alone.
