At the broken glass.
At his trembling hands.
At the fear in his eyes.
Understanding dawned.
Her expression changed completely.
“Did… did you—?”
Ethan nodded slightly, unable to speak.
Her lips parted.
“Thank you…” she breathed. “You saved him… you saved my baby…”
But Ethan barely heard her.
In the distance—
The school bell rang.
His stomach dropped.
“Oh no…”
Without another word, he turned and ran.
He ran as fast as he could, his legs burning, his lungs tight. His heart pounded not just from the sprint—but from everything that had just happened.
He didn’t stop until he reached the classroom door.
He pushed it open.
Every head turned.
He stood there, breathless, hair messy, shirt damp with sweat. Tiny cuts lined his hands where the glass had grazed him.
At the front of the room, Mrs. Reynolds slowly turned around.
Her arms crossed.
“Ethan Carter,” she said firmly, “you’re late. Again.”
The words landed heavy.
The room went silent.
Ethan opened his mouth.
He wanted to explain.
He wanted to tell her everything—the baby, the heat, the glass, the fear—
But the words wouldn’t come.
It sounded too unbelievable.
Too much like an excuse.
“I’m sorry…” he said quietly.
Mrs. Reynolds didn’t soften.