The morning started off normal.
Carmen packed Matteo’s lunch, smoothing out his uniform while he chattered excitedly about school.
“Mama, today we get to paint!” Matteo beamed as she buttoned up his shirt.
“That sounds fun, baby,” Carmen said, kissing his forehead. “What are you going to paint?”
Matteo tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“Maybe a house. Or a dragon! Oh! Maybe Nanny!”
Carmen froze. Her hand tightened slightly on his shoulder. “Matteo…” she started carefully. “Nanny isn’t here anymore, remember?”
Matteo’s smile faltered just slightly, but he quickly nodded. “I know, Mama. But I can still paint her.”
Carmen forced herself to stay calm, even as unease curled in her stomach.
“Okay, baby. But maybe paint something new? Something happy?”
Matteo shrugged. “Okay!”
She exhaled softly, pushing down the unease that never truly left her. She walked him to the car where Marco was already waiting, leaning against the sleek black SUV.
“You ready, kid?” Marco asked, opening the door for him.
“Yup!” Matteo grinned, climbing inside.
Marco gave Carmen a quick glance.
“You okay?”
Carmen hesitated. “I don’t know, Marco. He still talks about her.”
Marco sighed, rubbing his jaw. “It’s normal. He’s a kid.”
Carmen frowned, crossing her arms.
“Is it?”
Marco didn’t answer. Because he didn’t know either.
At Little Oaks Academy, the morning was peaceful. Matteo played with his friends, painted during art time, and listened to his teacher read a story.
Everything seemed fine. Until recess.
Matteo was playing alone, arranging pebbles on the ground when a boy walked up to him.
Brandon Carter.
A bigger, older boy—mean and loud. “Hey, weirdo,” Brandon sneered, kicking Matteo’s pebbles away.
Matteo blinked up at him, confused.
“Hey! I was playing with those!”
Brandon smirked. “So what? You gonna cry?”
Matteo frowned deeply. “That wasn’t nice.”
Brandon crossed his arms.
“And what are you gonna do about it, freak?”
Matteo’s small fingers curled into fists.
“I’m not a freak.”
Brandon snickered.
“Yes, you are. You talk funny. You’re creepy. My mom says your dad is a criminal.”
Matteo’s chest tightened.
“He’s not,” he said quietly.
Brandon grinned.
“Is your mommy a criminal too?”
Matteo’s heart pounded. A sharp ringing filled his ears.
His mind was clouding.
Then—
Brandon shoved him.
Matteo stumbled back, his small hands catching on the rough pavement. His palms stung, but that wasn’t what made his stomach twist.
It was the whisper in his head. “Never let anyone hurt you, Rafael.”Matteo squeezed his eyes shut.
“You have to protect yourself.”
Matteo’s small fingers reached into his pocket. Wrapped around something cold. Something sharp. Something Ella had given him.
Everything happened too fast.
One second, Brandon was laughing.
The next—
Matteo’s small hand jerked forward.
A sharp blade sliced through fabric.
Through skin. Brandon screamed. Blood splattered onto the pavement.
Teachers rushed over, voices shouting.
Matteo stood still, his small fingers still wrapped around the small pocket knife. Brandon was on the ground, clutching his bleeding arm.
Tears streamed down his face as he wailed.
“HE STABBED ME!”