I nodded, my heart pounding. “Please, Ms. Alvarez. I need to see it.”
She hesitated for a moment longer before nodding. “Come with me.”
Ms. Alvarez led me to her office, a small space filled with piles of paperwork and a bank of computer monitors showing various angles of the playground and schoolyard. She clicked a few keys, and the footage popped up on the screen.
At first, it was just kids running around, teachers guiding the children in their activities. But then Noah came into view, walking toward the back fence. He stopped and turned his head, grinning. Then, as if waiting for something, he waved.
“Zoom in,” I said, my voice hoarse. My stomach was in knots.
Ms. Alvarez zoomed in. The camera revealed a man crouching low on the other side of the fence, his figure partially obscured by the shadow of a nearby tree. He was wearing a baseball cap and a work jacket, his face barely visible. The man leaned forward, talking to Noah.
My breath caught in my throat. “Who is that?” I demanded.
Ms. Alvarez’s expression changed, her eyes widening slightly. She clicked on another part of the footage. “That’s one of the contractors. He’s been here working on the exterior lights.”
I could hardly breathe. “What contractor?”
“He’s been here for a few days now,” she said, her voice faltering. “But we’ll check into it.”
I didn’t hear her. My mind was racing. The man… that face… I knew it. I had seen it before. In the crash report. The driver. The one who had killed Ethan.
Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and dialed 911.
The phone rang in my ear as I stood frozen, staring at the security footage. The man—that man—was there. He was the one who had killed Ethan. The thought hit me like a freight train, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I gripped my phone tighter, my fingers trembling as the 911 operator answered.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“My name is Elana Elana,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m at the local kindergarten. A man has been talking to my son, Noah. I believe he’s connected to the fatal accident that killed my son, Ethan. I need officers here immediately.”
The operator’s voice grew more serious. “Ma’am, stay calm. We’re dispatching officers to your location now. Can you describe the situation for me?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “He’s been approaching my son at school, by the back fence. My son says this man is using Ethan’s name, telling him secrets. He’s been doing it for days.”
There was a brief silence on the other end. “We’ll send officers to your location. Please stay where you are and do not approach the man. Help is on the way.”
I ended the call and turned to Ms. Alvarez, whose face had gone pale as the reality of the situation set in. “We need to find him. Now,” I said, my voice sharp. “He’s connected to my son’s death. He’s the one who hit Ethan.”
Ms. Alvarez didn’t argue. She nodded and quickly walked out of her office, leading me down the hallway toward the back gate where the incident had occurred. My heart raced with each step, each second feeling like it was stretching into an eternity. I was going to see him. The man who had killed my son. I had to confront him. I had to know why. I had to make him feel the weight of what he had done.
We reached the back gate where the footage had shown Noah and the man interacting. The area was quiet now, the playground empty except for a few teachers walking the children toward the classrooms. My mind couldn’t focus on anything else. All I could think about was getting to him.
“He’s still here,” Ms. Alvarez said, her voice barely audible.
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