His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

"Carlos, it's Cyrus," I blurted out, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "He's had an allergic reaction at the kindergarten, and they say he's running a fever."

There was a brief pause before Carlos's voice returned, firm and reassuring. "I'll be there soon. Don't worry, Doris. We'll get him through this."

His calm demeanor gave me something to cling to, a thread of stability in the chaos of my mind. I took a breath and nodded, though he couldn't see me, then hung up and rushed to my car.

The drive felt like it took forever, even though I barely registered the streets as they passed by. My thoughts raced, anxiety gnawing at me as I imagined Cyrus, small and sick, lying in that infirmary. The images flashed in my mind, unrelenting, and it took everything in me to stay focused on the road.

By the time I arrived at the kindergarten, I was practically running. My heart was, pounding as I burst through the doors of the infirmary. The sight of Cyrus lying on the small bed hit me harder than I had expected. His face was pale, covered in red lumps, and a cooling patch sat on his forehead. His ears and tail were missing, which only happened when he was truly unwell.

"Cyrus," I whispered, rushing to his side. My hands shook as I brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, and his eyes fluttered open at my touch.

"Mama," he murmured, his voice weak but somehow still trying to be reassuring.

The sight of him like this broke me. I felt my throat tighten as I held back tears, trying to be strong for him. "I'm here, baby You're going to be okay," I said softly, though I wasn't entirely sure of it myself. The panic that had taken root in my chest was hard to push away. He gave me a weak smile, his hand reaching for mine, gripping it with what little

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His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Sorf's in PeaceText property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

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strength he had. "I won't leave you, Mama," he said in a soft, serious voice. "Not

like my brother."

His words sent a sharp pain through my heart. The memory of his brother, the son I had lost far too soon, surged to the surface, a wound I had thought had healed

but never truly would. I blinked, willing away the tears that threatened to spill

over. I didn't want Cyrus to see how scared I was, how deeply his words affected

1. me.

"I'm so sorry, baby," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I won't let anything happen

to you. I promise."

The door to the infirmary opened, and Carlos stepped in. His presence was like a breath of fresh air-a calm amidst the storm. He crossed the room swiftly, his face composed but full of concern. Kneeling down beside Cyrus's bed, he immediately began checking his condition, his movements precise and efficient.

"Let me see," Carlos said quietly, his hands moving over Cyrus with the practiced skill of someone who had done this a hundred times before. He checked the rash, felt Cyrus's pulse, and assessed his fever, all while I stood helplessly beside them.

After what felt like an eternity, Carlos finally stood up, his expression softening slightly. "He'll be fine," he said, his voice full of relief. "It's a mild reaction. The fever will drop soon, and the rash will clear up after a few hours. He just needs rest." The weight that had been crushing me lifted slightly, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Thank you," I whispered, brushing a tear from my cheek.

But Carlos wasn't done. His face darkened as he turned toward Ms. Hayley, who was standing by the door, pale and clearly shaken. "How did this happen?" he asked, his voice low and controlled. "All his allergens were supposed to be registered." "I-I don't know," she stammered, looking on the verge of tears herself. "Everything was registered. I checked it all this morning. I don't know how this

could have happened."

Carlos's anger was tangible, the air in the room seeming to grow heavier. His gaze

was sharp, unrelenting. "We need to check the CCTV," he said, his tone firm. "I want to know what caused this."

Ms. Hayley nodded quickly and rushed out of the room to get the footage. I stood

next to Carlos, my mind racing. Something wasn't right. I had been so careful with

Cyrus's allergies-this couldn't have been an accident.

A few minutes later, we stood around the screen as the CCTV footage played. My stomach churned as I watched Sienna, sneaking into the kindergarten just after I had dropped Cyrus off. She went straight to the file room, rifled through the documents, and then slipped something into his toys. My hands clenched into fists. "Sienna," I growled, fury surging through me. Tina snarled in the back of my mind, pushing my rage to the forefront. This wasn't a mistake-Sienna had deliberately hurt my son.

Carlos's eyes darkened as he watched the footage, his face hardening with anger. "She did this on purpose," he said coldly.

I stood up straighter, my body tense with rage.