Chapter 1

At midnight, my phone buzzed with a SnapChat from Lily's classmate's mom.

She sent me a video of the kids having lunch at kindergarten.

Then, she immediately messaged again.

“Lily’s mom, why isn’t Lily eating shrimp?”

Groggily, I tapped out a reply.

“She’s allergic.”

I thought that would be the end of it.

But then my phone just wouldn’t quit buzzing.

I put it on silent, hoping she’d finally get the hint, but just when I thought I was free, she outright called me.

“Lily’s mom, an allergy isn’t some magic pass not to eat! Kids watch everything, you know. If Lily isn’t eating shrimp, then my Daisy will totally get the idea and stop eating it too!”

My sleep evaporated, my mind went blank.

Is that something a normal person would say?

Fearing I'd misheard, I repeated myself.

“Ms. Albright, my daughter is severely allergic to shrimp. She can’t eat it.”

“I know she’s allergic to shrimp.”

Her tone on the other end sharpened, growing impatient, her voice shrill and thin.

“So, just because she’s allergic, she doesn't have to eat it? You’re spoiling your child beyond belief. You’re not only being irresponsible to your own kid, but you’ll severely corrupt other children.”

“Honestly, talking to you is like pulling teeth. No wonder people say some people just shouldn't be parents, they can’t even hold a proper conversation.”

At that, my temper flared.

“Ms. Albright, state your business, but don’t resort to personal attacks. I’m about to—”

Before I could finish, she cut me off.

“Oh, fine, fine, I won’t waste any more breath on you.”

“Today, because your daughter refused to eat shrimp, my Ava missed out on one. Seeing as they’re classmates, I won’t ask for too much. Just half a million dollars for my daughter’s nutritional expenses, and we’ll call it even. Next time, it won’t be so simple.”

Half a million?

Fifty thousand for missing one shrimp?

Why doesn’t this woman just rob a bank directly?

I’m soft when people are soft, but I’m fierce when they’re fierce. I wasn’t about to indulge someone like her.

“Ms. Albright, whether my daughter eats shrimp is her business. If your daughter chooses to imitate her, that’s a failure in your parenting, and it has nothing to do with us.”

With that, I hung up, refusing to give her another chance to spew venom.

This sudden incident left me tossing and turning all night.

Having Ivy as a classmate of Ms. Albright’s daughter wasn't a long-term solution. I decided to move Ivy to a different preschool.

“Mommy, but Ava wants to go to school today. Yesterday, my friends and I promised we’d bring them cookies today. Ivy doesn’t want to be someone who breaks her word.”

Seeing my daughter’s little face scrunched up, my heart melted.

I couldn't bear to disappoint her. Fine, one more day it is.

As for Ms. Albright, she was probably just a paper tiger.

After all, there were teachers in the preschool, and surveillance cameras everywhere.

Thinking this, my heart settled a little.

“Ivy, if anything happens, you *must* call Mommy, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy! Bye-bye!”

To be safe, I specifically sent a SnapChat message to Ms. Jenkins, asking her to keep an extra eye on Ivy.

After doing everything I could think of, I threw myself into work.

We had a new project bid coming up, doubling my usual workload.

I was busy until past 1 PM before I finally had time to sit down and drink some water.

I opened SnapChat and instinctively checked my chat with Ivy’s teacher.

To my surprise, the conversation was still stuck on the message I’d sent that morning.

Ms. Jenkins was usually busy, but she’d always reply within two hours at the latest.

Not like this, with four or five hours passing without a word.

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach.

I quickly made a FaceTime call to Ms. Jenkins.

But no matter how many times I dialed, there was no answer.

I then called Ivy.

The voice that responded was,

*“The number you have dialed does not exist!”*