Page 100 of Mission: Possible

We walked towards the tall-fenced yard that surrounded a small, squat building. Alice typed a code into the gate and we walked through before she secured it behind us. "Isn't it crazy that they need this kind of security on kids' facilities?" she asked.

"Not just crazy," I said, "repulsive."

"I like that word better. Kids should be safe. Everyone should be safe. Kids should be able to roam wherever they like though, without fear."

"If only we lived in that perfect world."

"I'm so angry that someone hurt one of the patients on my watch," said Alice. "What happened to hospitals being safe spaces?"

"I wish I could answer that."

"Hey, guys!" Alice's mouth split into a wide smile as she stepped into the classroom. I followed her in, spotting Ben and Rachel as they jumped from their tables and raced over, wrapping her in a big hug. Then they saw me and ditched her.

"Mom!" yelled Ben. "It's Aunt Lexi!"

"Aunt Lexi's here! Woohoo!" yelled Rachel.

"Thanks, you two," said Alice, but she wasn't mad.

"Look what I drew," said Rachel, showing me a bunch of random shapes on a big sheet of paper.

"That's nice?" I guessed.

"It’s called contemporary art."

"I see that now. I like all the colors."

"Mine's all about using blue," said Ben, passing me his drawing. "I got to use all the blues and make thin and thick stripes. We're looking at lots of famous painters' art."

"That's a cool idea. I like all the stripes and how you drew some straight and some all wobbly."

"You can have it if you want?"

"I'd love to have it."

"Mine too," said Rachel as she smacked hers into my hands.

"Thanks!"

"Go wash up now and take off your aprons and grab your jackets. We need to drop Lexi off before we go home."

"I'm so happy you're here," said Rachel, opening her arms for a big hug and approaching me with paint-spattered fingers. I stepped back in alarm, making frantic "shoo" movements as she advanced.

"Not with those paint fingers," said Alice, stepping into her daughter's path and grabbing her by the shoulders. She turned her around and set her in motion towards the sinks. "Use lots of soap," she urged Rachel as she gave her a helping push in the right direction.

"Parenting must feel like a constant battle between cleanliness and avoiding sticky handprints," I observed.

"Yeah. I largely gave up when I had Rachel."

"Paints..." I muttered, frowning. The same strange thought still bothered me."Paints."

"Don't worry. You don't have to keep their paintings."

I waved her comments away. "No, it's not that... It's... huh!" I reached for my phone and called up my emails. The one I was looking for was one of the last to arrive. I opened it and waited for the attachments to download, wondering if I were the one who was crazy, and not the world. No, there it was, paint on the fingertips. I dismissed it before but now I zoomed in and I could see it clearly.

I made a mistake. A very big mistake.

"Hey, I know you." A woman stopped next to me, smiling cautiously.

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