Chapter 7
MIA
The summons to Mrs. Meyers’s office comes via a phone call, in a clipped instruction that sends my stomach plunging.
It’s rare to be called in during my shift.
Even rarer to find the head of IT—wearing a badge that tells me his name is Randall—and a hospital security officer waiting alongside my supervisor.
Their grim expressions tell me that whatever this is, it’s bad.
I step into the office, my heart pounding, and my gaze is immediately drawn to the computer screen. The paused footage shows a familiar figure in grainy black and white: Jason.
The words hit like a gut punch. My mind scrambles, replaying the night before. I was home with the twins, asleep.
“He interacted with one of the patients. The woman says he had a gun on him and he asked him about you. The patient is terrified.”
“Sir,” I say, my voice coming out shaky, “I don’t have any relationship with that man anymore. It all ended six years ago.”
Randall and Mrs. Meyer exchange a glance. “She already has a restraining order in place for this man,” she tells him.
Randall turns to me. “I understand your situation, Miss Henson, but it’s impossible to sensitize each staff member about your situation.”
I swallow hard. “I understand.” Jason is my demon to deal with.
Randall leans forward, clicking to play the video.
The footage shows Jason loitering near the nurses’ station, his face mostly obscured by the brim of a baseball cap, but the way he moves is unmistakable.
Predatory. Intentional. He walks to the locked medication room, tries the door, and, finding it secure, leaves moments later.
“He didn’t access the drugs,” the security officer says, his tone measured, “but his presence is a clear breach.”
“Why wasn’t I notified sooner?” I ask, panic creeping into my voice.
The IT head hesitates. “The footage was flagged during a routine audit this morning. The night shift didn’t recognize him as a threat and didn’t report it.”
A fresh wave of anger and fear surges. Jason, creeping through the hospital while I was miles away, unaware. He could have done anything—planted something, tampered with medication. The possibilities make my skin crawl.
“I’ll update the police on the incident,” I say, forcing my voice to remain steady even as my hands tremble.
The security officer clears his throat, an awkward, halting sound that immediately sets me on edge. Mrs. Meyers avoids my gaze, her expression grim, and I know—deep in my gut—that something is wrong.
“Mia,” the security officer says, his voice carefully measured, “we can’t have you working here right now.”
The words hit like a slap, and I blink at her, unable to process.
“What?” I finally manage, my voice breaking.
“Randall,” Mrs Meyers says, turning to the officer who shakes his head.
“It’s not your fault,” he says, continuing quickly, almost like he’s trying to soften the blow.
“But Jason’s presence poses a serious threat.
To you, to our staff, to patients. We could have a serious lawsuit on our hand if the patient complains.
Until this situation resolves, we’re putting you on administrative leave. ”
My legs feel like they might give out. “But I have to work. I’m the only one supporting my girls.”
Randall’smouth tightens into a line, and for a moment, I think he might relent. “I’m sorry. It’s a difficult decision.”
“But the hospital is helping me out.”
“He crossed a line, Miss Henson. We can’t have him on our parameters again.”
I turn to Mrs Meyers after Randall leaves. “You have to help me,” I tell her.
“I know, Mia. I never thought…” She trails off.
“You promised to help me.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I never imagined it would come to this,” she says. That’s because she doesn’t know Jason.
But then she takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “If you want to apply for paid personal leave—”
“For what?” My voice rises, desperation creeping in. “To care for a health issue? That’s the only option you’re giving me?”
Mrs. Meyers hesitates. “Let’s say... severe depression. I can fast-track it.”
The room feels too small, too suffocating. “But something like that on my record—”
“I’m sorry, Mia.” Her tone is low, almost apologetic, but it doesn’t dull the blow. “It’s the best I can do. But I can promise to keep this discreet.”
I know she’s trying to help, but it doesn’t feel like help. It feels like I’m being punished for something I didn’t do. For someone else’s obsession.
My voice wavers as I force out, “What am I supposed to tell my girls?”
Mrs. Meyers looks down at her desk, unable to meet my gaze. “Take the time, Mia. Figure out your next steps. The hospital will be here when you’re ready to come back.”
But will it?
And will I come back?
“If there’s anything I can do to help…” Mrs. Meyers adds.
But she can’t help. Not really. Not in the ways that matter.
I nod, the movement mechanical, and turn to leave the office. The security officer steps aside, his expression unreadable as I push the door open. Outside, the fluorescent lights of the hallway seem brighter than usual, glaring against my watery vision.
I don’t know how I’ll explain this to Emma and Ella. I don’t know how I’ll pay the rent.
My chest is tight, and I sniff sharply, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill. I don’t want to break down here. Not where anyone can see.
I almost don’t notice him there, leaning casually against the wall, until he straightens at the sight of me. Asher.
“Mia. I was looking for you,” he says.
“I was just…” What can I tell him? That I was just unofficially kicked out of my job. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes.
His eyes narrow slightly, taking me in like he’s assessing for damage.
My heart betrays me, skipping a beat at the sight of him. I mentally scold myself. How can I even feel this way about someone, especially now? My life is chaos, my job is slipping away, and my girls…
Asher doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he steps closer, his presence grounding me in a way I hate to admit. When his hand brushes the small of my back, I stiffen, startled. But I’m too shaken to pull away, and he doesn’t move it.
Asher’s jaw tightens, his hand pressing ever so slightly, a reassurance I didn’t know I needed. “He won’t hurt you,” he says. “Not while I’m here.”
I want to believe him, but doubt claws at me. I shake my head, looking away.
“He already has,” I say bitterly. “He’s taking my job, my security. How long before—”
“He doesn’t take anything you don’t let him,” Asher interrupts gently. There’s a calm certainty in his voice that’s hard to ignore. “You’re not fighting this alone anymore, Mia.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in my throat. His hand lingers on my back, warm and solid, until I finally find the courage to meet his gaze.
“What are you even doing here?” I ask, half-expecting some flippant answer.
“We’re supposed to be here for you. Round the clock protection, remember?”My laugh comes out humorless. “You can’t do anything to help me.”
He frowns. “Why are you saying that?”
I don’t answer, afraid that I’ll fall apart any second.
My phone rings. The school’s number flashes on my phone, and my heart lurches so hard, it feels like it stops altogether. My fingers fumble as I answer, dread coiling tight in my chest.
“Ms. Henson? I’m sorry to call you at this hour—"
I don’t hear the rest. My stomach plummets, my vision tunneling until only the panic remains. Jason.
My knees buckle, and Asher is suddenly there, catching me, his voice sharp and commanding as he takes the phone from my trembling hand.
“This is Asher Rheins,” he says into my phone. “Lock down the school. We’re on our way.”
I barely register the steady cadence of his words, the way he takes control like it’s second nature. All I can think about is getting to Emma and Ella, my babies, vulnerable and within Jason’s reach.
The drive is a blur. I don’t remember getting into the car; I just hear snippets as Asher calls Zane and asks him to get to the school.
I don’t even register the world outside the windows.
My hands clutch the door handle so tightly, my knuckles turn white.
My breathing is shallow and rapid, a storm raging in my chest.
“Mia, look at me,” Asher says, his hand briefly brushing mine before returning to the wheel. “We’ll get them. They’re safe right now.”
Safe. That word feels so far away, so impossible. My mind races with all the worst-case scenarios, each one darker than the last.
The screech of tires in the school parking lot snaps me out of the fog. Asher cuts the engine, and we’re out of the car before it even finishes rolling to a stop.
Zane is already there, standing near the entrance. His stance is wide, surveying the area like a predator searching for prey.
The moment Asher parks in front of the school, I’m rushing out, my heart thundering in my ears. My babies. My girls.
But Zane intercepts me, his scarred face set in grim lines. His expression is grim, his tone clipped and professional. “I intercepted him before he could get close to the fence. He saw me and bolted.”
My breath catches, and I press a hand to my chest, trying to will my pounding heart to slow. “He’s gone?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“For now,” Zane replies. “But he’ll be back. Men like Jason don’t scare easy.”
I go inside to pick up the girls from their classroom. Their class teacher, Rachel Winging gives me a troubled look. “Don’t worry. I remember your instructions. Nobody but you gets to take them.”
“Thank you,” I say barely holding myself as I take the girls out of school.
The twins bound out of the school entrance, their faces lit up with excitement. They’re oblivious to the shadow that looms over us, their innocence piercing my chest like a knife.
“Mommy! Mr. Asher! Mr. Zane!” Emma chirps, holding up a crayon drawing. “Look! I made a picture of a castle!”