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#10: She And My Daddy Used To Fight Bad Guys
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2026-01-01 05:00:15The next day, the call comes in while Vincent and I are at work, reviewing a procurement report I have already flagged twice.
I know it is bad news the second I see the school’s number on my screen. I stare at it for half a second too long before answering. “This is Nora Calder.” The principal’s voice is calm and practiced. “Mrs. Calder, we need you to come in. Lucy has been suspended for the rest of the day, effective immediately.” I immediately drop the pen I was holding. “Suspended? For what?!” “There has been a complaint filed regarding your daughter.” There is a pause, followed by the sound of papers shifting. “Another parent reported an incident from last week,” she says. “The matter was escalated to administration this morning.” I close my eyes. “She was attacked first,” I say. “You already have the report.” “Yes,” the woman says. “However, the other parent insists the response was excessive and unsafe.”
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SIR #26: You Look Your Best With A Gun In Your Hand
I stare into the empty space where the ledger should be, my pulse loud in my ears, each beat reminding me how quickly everything we built to protect ourselves has crumbled. David exhales sharply beside me, the sound cutting through the silence. “Someone knew exactly where to look.” I don’t answer right away. My mind is already racing backward, replaying the contents of the documents we confiscated from Malcolm that day. I turn to David. “You told me the second key was somewhere no one would ever find it.” “It was.” His jaw is tight, eyes fixed on the empty box as though it might suddenly produce the ledger if he glares hard enough. “I kept one here. The other is buried under six feet of concrete in a warehouse I bought under a shell company in Jersey. No one knew about that warehouse except me. And you.” I step back, arms folding across my chest. “You think I told someone?” “I think someone found out.” He finally looks at me, expression unreadable. “The list of people who knew t
SIR #25: And Then What?
The fluorescent lights hum above me as I crouch behind the row of parked ambulances, watching the side entrance of the lab like it might blink first. “Camera feed looped,” Nico murmurs through my earpiece. “You’ve got exactly eleven minutes before the system runs a checksum and realizes something’s off. Twelve if you move fast.” “Eleven is plenty,” I whisper, adjusting the hood over my hair. “Still can’t believe you dragged me into this,” he adds. “Again.”I'd called Nico on my way to the hospital. I'd felt bad about waking him up by this hour, but I needed someone tech savvy to help me break in and Nico is the best hacker I've ever known. And he loves me. I smirk despite the tightness in my chest. “You love being useful.” “I love not being in jail.” “With your pretty face, I'm sure you'd fit right in,” I joke, then add softly, “I owe you.” “I’ll add it to the tab.” A pause. "Code's 7842. Camera loop starts in thirty seconds. You have four minutes before the system resets. Go."
SIR #24: Someone They Call Shadow
I sit on the edge of Lucy's bed long after she falls back asleep, her small hand still curled around mine. The room is dark except for the faint glow of the nightlight shaped like a crescent moon. I stare at it, thinking about how everything I thought I could control is slipping through my fingers. My husband pulled a gun on me and my ex husband yesterday. My daughter was threatened at her school during recess. The freaking mafia are after me for a ledger I have no idea about. My life, the one I rebuilt brick by careful brick, feels like it's made of sand. I kiss her forehead, careful not to wake her again, and slip out of the room. The hallway is quiet. Vincent is in the guest room tonight, and that's perfect honestly. I really don't want to see his face right now, don't want to hear another apology that won't fix anything. I go to my study instead, lock the door behind me, and sit at the desk. My phone is in my hand before I even think about it. I dia
SIR #23: Lucy Is Short For Lucia
We’re officially at 20k views, guyssss 😭 I know this might not seem like a huge milestone to some of you who are used to reading books with 100k, 500k, or even millions of views, but for me?? For the fact that this is my very first book ever??? Speechless. I was surprised when this book even got to 1k tbh. Thank you to every single person who has read, commented, voted, or supported this story in any way. You have no idea how many times I go back to reread your comments whenever I need a smile or a little motivation. I appreciate you all more than I can put into words. Truly. And a very special shoutout to Coco 🥹 Baby girl, I LIVE for your chapter comments. Real-time reactions are my absolute favourite, and you never hold back. I love it so much. Alright, enough yapping for now, but GUYSSSS… SIR is at 20k views and my little author heart is so full 🤍 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ David The townhouse door closes behind him with a soft click that feels louder than it should. David stands in the
SIR #22
Vincent's hand doesn't waver. The gun stays level, pointed straight at David's chest, and the hallway light catches the metal in a way that makes it look colder than it already is. My heart slams against my ribs so hard I feel it in my throat. “Vincent,” I say, my voice instinctively calm. “What the hell are you doing?” He doesn't even blink. His eyes stay locked on David. "You think you can just walk back into her life? Show up at our building, touch my wife, and I'm supposed to stand here like it's nothing?" David doesn’t move. Not a step back. Not a flinch. His head tilts slightly, eyes locked on Vincent’s hand, his posture loose like he’s watching weather roll in rather than a loaded weapon. But he doesn't respond. “Put the gun down, Vincent.” I say, louder this time. Vincent’s jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. His finger rests dangerously close to the trigger. “You want to know what I’m doing?” he says. “I’m fixing this.” “By pulling a gun on my ex-hu
SIR #21: I Hate That You're Here
I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as I speed through the city streets, David in the passenger seat beside me. "Turn left at the next light," he says quietly, glancing at his phone's GPS. "It'll shave off a few minutes." I nod without speaking and make the turn, the hospital coming into view ahead. My mind races with possibilities, each one worse than the last. I brushed Lucy's fever the other night off as a bug, but the fact that the doctor wanted to speak about it in person... it changes everything. I park in the first spot I see, not caring if it's legal, and we're out of the car before the engine fully stops. David keeps pace with me as we hurry through the sliding doors into the bright, sterile lobby. The smell of antiseptic hits me immediately, bringing back memories I try to push down. Memories of another hospital visit, another child, another loss that still haunts me every day. “Slow down,” he says quietly when I take the corner too fast. “We’re no
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