The Rose He Killed novel Chapter 222

Chapter 200: Distress

Bella POV

Inside the office was Caleb, the deputy head-Mrs. Walcott, according to her lanyard-and Lena, who stood slightly apart with her tablet running a building schematic.

Caleb turned when I came in. His face was composed, and his jaw was set.

“He was at afternoon registration at 2:50,” Caleb said. “No gate footage yet. Lena is pulling interior

cameras.”

“That’s thirty-two minutes,” I said.

“A full staff sweep is in progress,” Mrs. Walcott said. “Every classroom, the sports hall, both toilet blocks.”

My phone rang.

It was an unknown number but a number, with a local prefix so I answered.

“Mrs. Black?” A young woman’s voice sounded slightly breathless. “This is Miss Perry, the library assistant at Silverton Primary. I’m so sorry, I only just heard the office was looking for him. Tom is here with me. He has been here since half two. He’s completely fine.”

I put my hand on the edge of the nearest desk.

“He stayed behind to finish his Spinosaurus project,” she continued. “He asked me if he could use the encyclopedias, and I said yes. Then I got caught up with returns, and completely lost track of time. He’s absolutely fine, Mrs. Black. He’s sitting right here. Do you want to speak to him?”

“No,” I said. “I’m in the building. I’ll come to him.”

I lowered the phone and looked at Caleb. Relief flashed across his face, gone so fast I nearly missed it.

“Library,” I said.

I saw him through the long window before he saw me.

す

Tom was at a low table in the corner of the library, surrounded by four open encyclopedias. A sheet of paper sat before him, covered in his careful, enormous handwriting, next to a hand-drawn diagram of a Spinosaurus with measurements along its spine. He had his tongue between his teeth, copying something from a book to his paper. He was completely absorbed, completely fine, and completely unaware that the world had very nearly ended in the last thirty-two minutes.

I stopped in the corridor and put my back against the wall.

I breathed in, breathed out, and did it again. My legs had made a quiet decision to be temporarily

unreliable, so I gave them a moment.

Then, I pushed the door open and walked in.

Tom looked up. He registered my face, and immediately pushed back from the table. “Mummy, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell Miss Jane.”

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Chapter 200 rations

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Lerossed the room and pulled him into me. His encyclopedias, his diagram, and his Spinosaurus project were entirely beside the point. I held him until my heart rate returned to something reasonable.

He let me, which was how I knew he understood the scale of it.

On the drive home, he sat in the back seat and stayed uncharacteristically quiet, watching the city go past.

Then, he asked, “Were you scared?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Like, really scared?”

“Yes, Tom.”

He was quiet again. I watched him in the rearview mirror, noticing how frozen he got when he was thinking hard.

“Like when the bad men took me?” he asked.

I kept my eyes on the road. “A bit like that.”

He nodded slowly, taking it in very seriously. His eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Mummy. I’m sorry for making you scared.”

“Oh, sweetie,” I said, reaching back to squeeze his leg. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“I won’t forget again,” he said, wiping his nose. “I’ll tell Miss Jane and all my teachers.”

“That’s good,” I said.

“I pinky promise,” he said, making a firm rule, and went back to looking out the window.

That night, the house was quiet with both kids asleep. I sat at the kitchen table with a cup of cold tea, staring at my phone.

Caleb walked in at eleven and loosened his collar. He looked tired, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual after the afternoon we’d had. He walked over to where I sat, leaned down, and kissed my cheek. His skin was cold from the night air outside.

“How are you?” he asked quietly, his hand resting on my shoulder for a brief moment.

“I am fine,” I said. My voice was a little too tight, a little too hollow, but it was the only answer I had the energy to give.

He looked toward the hallway, his eyes tracking the dark stairs leading up to the bedrooms. “How are the kids?”

“They are asleep,” I said.

“Mmm,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. He walked over to the counter, looked at the empty kettle, and then abandoned the idea of making anything. He turned back to me, the exhaustion finally showing in his posture. “Today was quite a scare honestly. When the school called, my blood ran cold. I

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kept thinking about the last time, about how fast everything fell apart.”

He walked back to the table, moving to the other side of the chair across from me. He didn’t sit

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