—Mabel—

A surge of panic rose in my chest. I shot to my feet.

“The kids? What about the kids?”

Mrs. Chukwuemeka drew a breath.

“They've refused to go to school. They woke up looking for you and have been crying, asking when you're coming home.”

Relief swept through me. I lowered my cutlery on the table and dragged a hand across my face.

“Oh, Okay. I'm coming over right now.”

Without hesitation, I ended the call, grabbed my purse, and headed out.

My convoy was waiting in ...