CHAPTER 200: WINNING PARENT OF THE YEAR

She looked so small and grown at the same time, standing there by the car door like she was ready to face the world, even though I wasn’t sure I was ready to let her.

I unbuckled my seatbelt quickly. "I’m coming in with you today," I told her, forcing a smile.

Her eyes brightened, and she nodded without a word.

I took her backpack off her shoulders, slinging it over mine. It was heavier than it looked, stuffed with books and snacks and God knows what else.

I held her small hand as we crossed the lot.

The closer we got to the building, the tighter she held me, like she was still scared yesterday might repeat itself.

We stopped at her class door. I crouched down, handing her the backpack. "Here, baby. You got it?"

"Yeah," she said, adjusting it on her shoulder with that little nod she always does.

Before I could say anything else, a small ginger-haired girl ran over, waving. "Hi, Alia!"

Alia’s whole face lit up. "I brought so many snacks!" she announced proudly, holding up the crinkly paper bag. Then she leaned closer, whispering loudly enough for me to hear: "But we’re not giving any to Jayden."

The girl giggled and nodded quickly, like they were planning some secret mission.

I couldn’t help smiling at the both of them. They waved at me, hand in hand, before disappearing into the classroom together. My chest eased. She had a friend. Maybe... maybe she really was okay.

I stayed there for a second, just watching her. I was about to turn and leave when I saw Mrs. Torres, watching me with that polite teacher smile plastered on her face

"Good morning, Ash," she said gently, smiling like we were still on good terms.

I froze, my jaw tightened. The words tasted bitter in my throat. "Morning," didn’t even come out. Instead, I just stared at her.

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. "I just want you to know... calling Child Services wasn’t to hurt you. I thought it was the best choice. Alia deserves every chance, and I thought... maybe it would ease some of the burden for you."

That word snapped something in me.

I took a step toward her, my voice shook but I stayed firm. "You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to look at me and say my sister is a burden. She’s not. She’s my family. My responsibility. My baby girl." I swallowed hard, and exhaled. "And I never once said she was too much for me."

Her face fell, her lips parted like she wanted to say more, to explain herself again, but the words just hung there between us.

My body was trembling, from anger, from fear I didn’t want her to see. That was when a hand landed gently on my shoulder.

I turned slightly, and there was Dominic, steady as always. His eyes told me to breathe. To not let this destroy me.

"You forgot her lunch," he said softly, holding out the little lunch bag.

I stared at it for a second, then exhaled, taking it from him with a nod. My legs felt heavy as I turned back, walked into the classroom again, and handed the bag to Alia.

Alia was still at her desk, laughing with the ginger girl. I placed the lunch bag on her table, brushing her shoulder gently. "Don’t forget this, okay?"

"Thanks, Ash!" she beamed, already unwrapping one of the snack bars.

But when I turned back into the hall, I caught Mrs. Torres watching us. Her smile was gone. She just looked... sad.

I didn’t stop. Dominic was right there beside me as I walked past her.

By the time we got back to the car, my hands were shaking on the door handle. I slammed it shut harder than I meant to and sank into the seat, buckling the seat belt.

Dominic started the engine but didn’t move yet. He just glanced at me, calm, steady, like he was waiting for me to spill.

"She actually tried to defend herself," I snapped, staring out the window. "Like...like she thought she was doing me a favor. Calling Child Services. Like raising Alia is some kind of a burden I need saving from." My throat tightened. "She doesn’t get to say that. She doesn’t even know us."

Dom’s hand reached over, finding mine where it sat on my knee. His palm was warm, calming me down. "Rivera..."

I shook my head, swallowing hard. "It’s like she doesn’t see how hard I’m trying. Or how much I love Alia. She just sees a kid with a messed-up life and thinks...yeah, let’s ship her off somewhere else." My voice cracked. "She’s my sister, Dom. She’s not some... project for them to manage."

Dom’s thumb brushed slow circles over my knuckles. "I know, baby. I know."

I finally turned to him, my chest burned. "Then why does it feel like nobody else does?"

He gave me that little smile...the one that always felt like a rope when I was drowning. "Because nobody else gets to be in here." He tapped lightly against my chest. "Nobody else knows how much room you’ve made for her. How much space in here is all Alia."

He always knew what to say.

I exhaled shakily, leaning my head back. My throat was burned. "I just hate that she thinks she knows better. Like she could raise Alia better than I could."

Dom smirked a little, trying to break through the storm in my chest. "Well, considering you actually ironed an eight year old’s clothes at six in the morning? I think you’re already winning Parent of the Year."

I couldn’t help it....I let out a weak laugh, covering my face with my hand. "Shut up."

"There it is," he said softly, squeezing my hand again. "That’s the laugh I like."

I dropped my hand, side-eyeing him, and he grinned.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, I muttered, "She better not try me again, though. I swear."

Dominic glanced at me as he pulled onto the road, a crooked grin tugged at his lips.

"Damn," he said lightly. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this pissed before. Remind me never to piss you off."

I turned my head toward him, still fuming but unable to stop the corner of my mouth from twitching. "Yeah, you better not. Because trust me, I’d win that fight."

His grin widened, eyes flashing with amusement. "Oh really? You’d win?"

"Every time," I shot back, smiling at him as we drove off.