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trying.”
    Emily walked into her classroom with Tess still beside her. There were already a half-dozen students talking in the back of the room. Emily set the bag of brownies Grace had given her on her desk, picked up Tess’s forgotten English book, then turned back to her niece.
    “Just remember that Jackson doesn’t want to take your dad’s place. That’s something he can’t and won’t ever do. Your dad will always be a part of who you are—not just his DNA, but everything he did. What Jackson can do is help fill that emptiness in your heart, both your mother’s and yours. He’ll be there to help you get your driver’s license, meet your date for senior prom, and one day . . . walk you down the aisle.”
    “You’re not helping.” A blush crept across Tess’s face.
    Emily nudged her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
    Tess’s blush spread as she ducked her head and nodded. “I guess.”
    Emily looked up as Rafael stepped through the doorway across the room, wearing his familiar green sweatshirt pairedwith a ball cap. A sigh of relief swam through her. At least he was okay.
    Emily turned back to Tess. “Let me go ahead and write you a pass. The warning bell’s about to ring.”
    Emily pulled out her cell phone and brought up Mason’s number while she searched the top drawer of her desk for a pen to write the pass. He would be relieved to know Rafael was okay. He’d probably just got held up in traffic. She’d heard on the radio this morning that there had been an accident on the freeway that was slowing the morning commute.
    Mason answered on the first ring.
    “Mason, this is Emily. Rafael just showed up. If you’d like to speak to him—”
    The warning bell rang, drowning out the wave of kids scurrying into the classroom at the last minute.
    Emily signaled at Tess to wait a second, then called out Rafael’s name.
    He hesitated before turning to face her. His normal smile was gone. His eyes red. He took a step backward and shut the door.
    “Rafael, wait. I need to—”
    Rafael pulled a gun out of his sweatshirt, crossed the room, then grabbed Tess’s arm. “I’m sorry, Miss Hunt, but I need you to give me your phone, then lock the door with your key.”
    “Emily?” Mason’s voice sounded from the phone.
    Emily fought to put Rafael’s demands into focus. The blank face, the gun, the demands . . . She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
    “It’s simple. Give me your phone and lock the door.”
    She stumbled forward with the phone, still trying to take in the numbing reality of what was happening. Tess’s eyes were wide with horror. One of her students sobbed in the back of the room.
    Emily fished for the key in her pocket, then glanced at thephone. She had to let Mason know what was happening. “He’s got a gun.”
    “Don’t move!” Rafael yelled as he let go of Tess and knocked the phone from Emily’s hand onto the tiled floor. He grabbed Tess’s arm again, his other hand still gripping the gun out in front of him. Emily forced her mind not to shut down in panic. The school’s—and her—priority was to keep the students safe.
    Words like lockdown , procedures , and minimizing the target swam through her head. But in this situation, there was no place to hide from the shooter’s attention. No way to provide 911 with the information they would need to help the police neutralize the situation. Because the potential shooter was standing right in front of her.



5
    R afael ’ s got a gun ?
    Mason shouted Emily’s name into his phone, but the connection was already lost. He’d heard enough, though, to realize that a drug-related kidnapping had somehow twisted into a school hostage situation. He hurried down the hallway toward Avery’s office while redialing Emily’s number. It rang a half-dozen times before her voice mail clicked on.
    Rafael . . . what are you doing?
    Mentally, he ran through their phone conversation this morning, struggling to figure out what