Chapter 6 - THE THREAT
The name blurred in my vision.
Abigail Reed.
My daughter. My sweet, empathetic nine-year-old girl who saved her fruit for hungry friends.
Daniels hadn't just targeted children from low-income, vulnerable families. He had targeted Abby because I was a single, working-class father who spent sixty hours a week on construction sites. He thought I wouldn't have the time or resources to fight a "behavioral transfer" mandated by the school board.
I slammed the blue folder shut. I grabbed it, along with a stack of the banded hundred-dollar bills as evidence, and marched back into the hallway.
When I emerged from the classroom, the scene had changed.
Standing next to Daniels was a heavy-set man in a dark blue uniform. It was Officer Miller, the school’s armed resource officer. He had his hand resting on his utility belt, looking confused and highly alert.
Daniels was no longer slouched against the lockers. He stood tall, his suit straightened, playing the role of the besieged administrator to perfection.
“Officer Miller, thank God,” Daniels was saying smoothly, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at me as I approached. “This man is Thomas Reed. He became violent after a disagreement over school policy. He assaulted Mrs. Caldwell, attacked me in the storage room, and has now broken into a secure faculty safe.”
Miller frowned, stepping forward and holding up his hand.
“Mr. Reed, I’m going to need you to step away from the children and put your hands on the wall,” Officer Miller commanded, his voice authoritative.
I stopped. I looked at the officer. He was a local guy, someone I’d seen at the hardware store a few times. He wasn't in on the scam; he was just doing his job.
But I couldn't let him take the evidence. If Daniels got his hands on the blue folder, he would destroy it, and the girls would be transferred anyway.
“Officer,” I said calmly, keeping my voice steady to avoid frightening the girls further. “Principal Daniels is lying. He and Mrs. Caldwell are running a massive embezzlement and fraud scheme. They’ve been starving these children to manufacture behavioral issues for profit.”
Daniels scoffed, shaking his head with a look of profound pity. “Listen to him, Miller. The man is grieving his late wife. He’s completely detached from reality. He just stole district funds from that safe.”
Officer Miller looked at the cash in my hand. His expression hardened.
“Mr. Reed, I won't ask again. Put the money and the folder on the floor, and put your hands on the wall. Now.”
He unclipped his radio, preparing to call for backup.
I looked back at Abby. She was terrified, clutching Lucy’s hand tightly. I couldn't get arrested. If I went to jail, there would be no one to protect her.
I had to take a massive gamble.
“Abby,” I said softly, my eyes locking onto my daughter’s. “Do you remember the game we play when we go to the grocery store? The 'Secret Agent' game?”
Abby’s eyes widened slightly. She nodded slowly. It was a silly game we played to keep her entertained while I bought supplies—I would slip a box of cookies into her backpack without the cashier seeing.
“I need you to be a secret agent right now, sweetheart,” I said.
Before Officer Miller could react, I turned my back to him, shielding Abby from his view. In one swift, fluid motion, I shoved the thick blue folder and the stack of cash deep into Abby’s open pink backpack, zipping it shut.
I turned back around, my hands completely empty, and raised them high in the air.
“I’m unarmed, Officer,” I said loudly, stepping away from the girls and slowly placing my hands flat against the cold metal lockers. “I am cooperating fully.”
Officer Miller quickly stepped forward, grabbing my arms and patting me down for weapons. He found my wire cutters and tossed them aside.
“Where did you put the money, Reed?” Miller demanded, confused by my sudden compliance.
“There is no money, Officer,” I said calmly. “Mr. Daniels is confused.”
Daniels’ face turned purple with rage. He realized exactly what I had done.
“He put it in the girl’s backpack!” Daniels yelled, completely losing his polished composure. He stepped toward Abby, reaching his large hands out to grab her pink bag. “Give me that backpack, Abigail!”
Abby screamed, shrinking back against the wall.
Instinct took over. I didn't care about the police officer holding my arms.
I violently twisted out of Miller’s grip, spinning around, and planted a heavy, steel-toed work boot squarely into Daniels’ chest before he could lay a finger on my daughter.
Daniels flew backward with a loud grunt, crashing hard onto the linoleum floor.
“Hey!” Officer Miller shouted, drawing his taser and aiming the red laser dot directly at my chest. “Stand down, Reed! Get on the ground!”
I raised my hands again, breathing heavily, but I didn't move away from Abby.
“He was going to grab my daughter,” I said fiercely, staring down the officer. “You saw him lunge at her.”
Miller hesitated. He had seen it. He looked down at the principal groaning on the floor.
“Officer Miller,” a small, trembling voice echoed in the hallway.
Miller looked past me.
It was the little girl in the oversized blue coat. She stepped forward, tears streaming down her face.
“Officer Miller,” she repeated, her voice cracking. “Please don't hurt him. He’s telling the truth. Mr. Daniels locked us in the dark. He wouldn't let us eat.”
Miller froze. He lowered the taser slightly.
He looked at the little girl. Really looked at her.
“Maya?” Miller asked, his voice suddenly thick with confusion. “What are you doing in this wing? You’re supposed to be in the cafeteria.”
The little girl sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of Sarah’s coat.
“They don't let me go to the cafeteria anymore, Uncle Dave,” Maya whispered. “They said if I tell my mommy, they’ll take me away to a bad school.”
The heavy, tense silence in the hallway was suddenly broken by the sound of Officer Miller’s radio dropping from his hand. It hit the floor with a loud clatter.
Miller’s face went completely pale. He stared at his niece, then looked at Mrs. Caldwell, who was pressing herself as far into the corner as possible.
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Finally, Miller looked down at Principal Daniels, who was struggling to sit up on the floor.
“Arthur,” Miller said, his voice dropping an octave, filled with a dangerous, protective wrath. “Why is my sister’s kid telling me you locked her in a closet?”
