Chapter 1: The Man Who Walked Her Home
My husband hated that our intimidating biker neighbor started walking our little daughter home from school — then one afternoon, her teacher called me and said, "Ma'am, you need to come here right now.
It's about the man who picks her up."
I'd known Travis since we were kids.
He was 36 now, huge, tattooed, and usually dressed in black leather.
He rode a motorcycle and played bass in a local band.
To strangers, he looked terrifying.
But to me, he was the guy who fixed my first car for free and helped my mom after my dad died.
He'd lived near my family for most of my life, and I trusted him completely.
When my work hours changed, I started struggling to pick up our seven-year-old daughter, Emma.
My husband, Ryan, worked across town until six.
Travis heard me complaining one afternoon.
"My rehearsals finish near her school around three," he said.
"I can walk her home."
The school checked his ID and officially added him to the pickup list.
Emma adored him.
Ryan hated the arrangement.
"I don't want our daughter depending on some biker every afternoon."
"He is not some biker.
He is Travis."
"You trust people too easily.
Something about him bothers me."
For three weeks, nothing happened.
Travis brought Emma home on time every day.
Then, one Tuesday, my phone rang at work.
It was Emma's teacher.
"Mrs.
Bennett, can you come to school immediately?"
My stomach dropped.
"Is Emma okay?"
A pause.
"Emma's okay.
But there's something I think you need to see in person."
Then she lowered her voice.
"It's about the man who picks her up."
Every warning Ryan had given me came rushing back.
I grabbed my bag and drove to the school with my hands shaking on the wheel.
Emma's teacher was waiting inside.
"Come with me."
She led me to the principal's office.
The moment I stepped inside, my stomach dropped.
---
May you like
What did Emma's teacher find out about Travis?
Comment "NEXT" if you want Part 2 — it's in the comments.
