Page 38 of Skate the Line

“He’s at his wife’s grave. He goes on the fifth of every month.”

Rhodes is silent as I continue to shuffle around to find my coat. The Airbnb is smaller than Rhodes’s entryway, and yet, I still can’t find anything.

“I’m nearby. I’ll just bring Ellie back to my place, and you can pick her up after practice.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That’ll work. I’ll be done in forty.”

“I’ll send you the address.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

Awkward silence.

“Okay…well, bye!”

“Sunny.”

My finger hovers over theend callbutton. “Yes?”

He clears his throat. “Thank you.”

My eyebrows shoot to my forehead. “You’re welcome, Mr. Volkova.”

I smile to myself and hang up the phone, knowing that it makes his eyes narrow each time I call him that.

I guess I’m not mature enough not to press his buttons after all.

When I walk into the school, I immediately grow anxious.

I don’t relax until I see her sitting on the bench in the hallway. She looks so out of place. Whereas most of the students’ uniforms are pressed neatly without a wrinkle to be seen, Ellie’s polo is untucked, and her khaki skirt is flipped up on the ends. Her braids are messy with little tendrils falling into her face. Her legs swing back and forth while she looks to be pondering something.

“Hi,” I say, taking a seat beside her.

She snaps to attention. Her mouth opens with shock. “Where is Daddy?”

“He sent me instead.” I eye her closely. Ellie does a pretty good job at hiding her emotions, but I don’t miss the relief that works itself onto her face.

Hmm.“Why do you look so relieved?”

“What does that mean?” she asks innocently.

“It means you’re happier to see me than you are him, but there must be a reason for that.” I nod to the principal's door. “Did you get in trouble?”

Ellie looks away. Her little hands, stained with marker, grab onto the bench. There’s a shift in the air, and my heart falls. “You stay right here,” I whisper, tapping her knee.

I climb to my feet and walk to the principal's door and gently knock. The door opens, and Ellie’s principal, whom I see in passing every morning, seems confused.

“Hello.” I smile. “I’m Ellie’s nanny. Mr. Volkova sent me to pick her up. I should be on the list.”

“Oh, right.” She blinks a few times, probably shocked that I’m still sticking around since the others were so fleeting. “Well, come in.”

I turn and wink at Ellie. Her cheeks turn pink.

Once the door is shut, I feel likeI’mthe one in trouble. The walls are lined with built-in bookshelves with old books in their rightful spots. The office is what I’d expect at a prestigious college, not an elementary school.

Where are the bright colors?

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