*Dad’s car is outside the school,* the message read.

My breath caught in my throat.

*He’s not supposed to be there, Lucas,* I typed back. *Go to the principal’s office.*

*He is talking to the secretary now,* Lucas replied.

*Where is Mason?* I asked.

*Next to me. He is crying. Dad has our bags.*

My hands began to shake so hard I almost dropped the phone.

“Can you go faster?” I asked the driver, leaning forward.

“Traffic is backed up for six blocks, lady,” the driver muttered.

I stared at the screen, waiting for the three dots to appear.

They didn’t.

I dialed the school’s main office line.

The line rang four times before a receptionist answered.

“Oakridge Elementary,” she said.

“This is Emily Carter,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “My sons, Lucas and Mason, are in the lobby.”

“Yes, Mrs. Carter,” the woman said. “Your husband is here to pick them up.”

“You cannot let them leave with him,” I said. “There is a temporary custody order.”

“Mr. Carter presented a court amendment,” she said. “He said there was an emergency with your mother.”