June's POV
I heard my mom's car horn honk just as I was finishing up in the classroom, still feeling the lingering exhaustion from last night's restlessness. I waved goodbye to a few of my students and made my way outside, where Mom sat waiting in her old Honda, the engine idling softly.
"Hey, sweetie," she called, leaning over to unlock the door. "How was school today?"
I slid into the passenger seat, sinking into the worn leather that always smelled faintly of cinnamon—something comforting, at least. I mustered a tired smile. "Same as usual. Kids are great, but I'm... just so tired, Mom."
She gave me a sympathetic look as she reached over to pat my hand. "I know, June. I wish this whole situation would blow over. But I made some progress today. I did some research and got a list of a few security agencies we can check out."
I sighed, glancing out the window as we pulled out of the school parking lot. The sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows that made everything feel a little colder, a little darker. "Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it. I just hope this doesn't end up being a waste of time."
I knew this was necessary, but the stress attached to it, made me anxious.
She gave me a sharp look, a hint of her usual stubbornness. "It won't be a waste. You need protection, Sweetie. It's not just about you anymore. I'm worried sick, you know?"
I knew she was right, but admitting it felt like acknowledging how real the danger was. Instead, I turned to her and squeezed her hand and tried to smile. "I know, Mom. Let's see what we find."
We drove in silence for a while, the list of agencies on her lap. Each name was neatly printed, her handwriting still as precise as ever. It almost made me laugh—she treated everything like one of her meticulously baked recipes, even when it came to protecting her daughter.
Our first stop was a small office tucked between a laundromat and a pawn shop. The building looked older than the two of us combined, and the sign out front was barely legible. We parked by the curb and got out of the car.
As we walked in, a bell above the door gave a shrill ring, announcing our arrival.
A man behind the counter looked up from a newspaper, his face lined with age and disinterest. He barely glanced at us as he shuffled to his feet, muttering something about a brochure while he searched through a messy stack of papers.
Mom and I exchanged a glance. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I could feel her frustration bubbling up. "Thank you, but we'll just take a look around," she said tightly, quickly guiding me back out into the cool air before I could even respond.
"Well, that was a bust," she huffed once we were back in the car. "Didn't even seem like he cared whether he got our business or not."
I managed a weak laugh. "Maybe he's been reading too many detective novels and thinks the mysterious act will attract clients."
Mom didn't find it as funny. She tapped the next address into her phone's GPS, a crease forming between her eyebrows. I could tell that each failure was hitting her hard, like it was proof that she couldn't fix this. But she kept pushing forward, determined.
We made our way to the next agency, then another, and each one left us feeling more defeated. One office had outdated equipment lining the shelves, the type that looked like it belonged in an old spy movie, while the next one had a receptionist who didn't even bother to look up from her phone. I watched my mom's shoulders slump a little more each time, and I tried to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.
By the time we left the third agency, the sun was setting, casting a deep orange glow over the city. The sky looked like it was on fire, but all I felt was a chill creeping in. The thought of going home with no solution, no sense of safety, made the shadows seem longer, more menacing.
As we walked back to the car, my mom suddenly stopped and took a deep breath. "Let's call it a day, June. We'll get nowhere like this if we're both exhausted."
I nodded, too tired to argue. "You're right. It's been a long day." We climbed back into the car, but she didn't start the engine immediately. She sat there, staring at the last name on the list with a frown.
"Look, June," she said after a moment, her voice softer. "This last one, KC Agency... I'll call and set up an appointment for you tomorrow after school. I have a good feeling about this one, okay?"
I glanced over at the name. KC Agency. Something about it stirred a faint familiarity in the back of my mind, but I couldn't place it. Maybe I'd heard it in passing or seen an ad somewhere, but I shrugged it off. "Alright, Mom. If you think it's worth a shot, I'll go. Hopefully, it won't be as bad as the others."
She squeezed my hand, relief flooding her face. "It'll be better, I promise. We'll get through this, honey."
"Mom, can I come home tonight"? I quickly got out.
"Of course honey", she said glancing at me. I knew she wanted to say more, but I was glad she didn't probe further.
As we drove home, I let myself cling to her words, even if part of me doubted it. Tomorrow, maybe things would change. But tonight, the uncertainty was still there, lurking just beyond the streetlights that blurred past our windows.