CHAPTER 185

SKYLAR'S POV
The phone call from Addison's school came at 2:17 PM on a Thursday, interrupting a foundation board meeting where I'd been discussing expanded funding for survivor rehabilitation programs. The moment I heard Principal Martinez's carefully controlled voice, I knew we were facing exactly the kind of situation we'd been dreading.
"Mrs. Mitchell, I need you to come to the school immediately. There's been an incident involving Addison and some other students."
"What kind of incident?" I asked, already grabbing my keys and signaling to my assistant that I needed to leave.
"It would be better if we discussed this in person. Is it possible for you to be here within the next hour?"
The diplomatic non-answer told me everything I needed to know. Someone had said something about our family, and Addison had responded in a way that had escalated beyond normal childhood conflict.
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," I said, already calculating which of the guys could get there fastest if backup was needed.
The drive to Addison's school felt like the longest twenty minutes of my life. Despite our best efforts to prepare her for questions about our unconventional family structure, I'd always known this day would come. Ten-year-olds weren't known for their tact or tolerance of differences.
I found Principal Martinez waiting in her office with Addison, who sat in a chair that made her look smaller and younger than her ten years. Her face was set in the stubborn expression I recognized from my own childhood - the look of someone who'd been hurt but refused to show weakness.
"Mama," she said when she saw me, relief flooding her features.
"Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. But Tyler Brennan is a liar and a bully, and I'm not sorry for what I said to him."
Principal Martinez cleared her throat diplomatically. "Mrs. Mitchell, perhaps Addison should wait in the outer office while we discuss what happened."
"Actually, I'd prefer she stay," I said, settling into the chair beside my daughter. "I want to hear her version of events."
"Very well. Addison, would you like to tell your mother what happened during lunch today?"
Addison straightened in her chair, her voice steady despite the slight tremor I could detect. "Tyler Brennan was telling everyone that our family is disgusting and that you're a bad mother for living with three men who aren't really married to you."
I felt the familiar cold rage beginning to build in my chest, but forced myself to remain calm. "And what did you say to Tyler?"
"I told him he was wrong and that our family is better than his because we actually love each other instead of just pretending to be happy."
"That seems like a reasonable response," I said, looking at Principal Martinez. "I'm not seeing the problem."
"The problem, Mrs. Mitchell, is that when Tyler continued to make inappropriate comments about your family, Addison threatened him."
"Threatened him how?"
"She told him that if he ever talked about her family again, she would make him regret it. She also informed him that her parents were capable of making people disappear permanently."
My blood ran cold. Despite our careful efforts to keep our past separate from our children's lives, Addison had somehow absorbed the understanding that our family was capable of violence.
"I see," I said carefully. "Addison, did you really say those things?"
"I said that you and the uncles were really good at protecting people and stopping bad people from hurting others. I didn't say we would hurt Tyler. I just said he should think about whether he wanted to be a bad person or a good person."
"But you did mention making people disappear?"
Addison's cheeks flushed slightly. "I might have said that Uncle Harry could make Tyler disappear if he kept being mean to people. But I didn't mean forever disappear. I meant like hide-and-seek disappear."
Principal Martinez leaned forward, her expression concerned. "Mrs. Mitchell, I need to ask directly - are there weapons in your home? Does Addison have access to information about violence that might be concerning?"
"There are legal firearms in our home, properly secured and licensed," I said, choosing my words carefully. "My husband and I both have experience in personal security, and our children are taught age-appropriate safety measures."
"What kind of personal security experience?"
"The kind that involves protecting people from individuals who wish them harm. We work with law enforcement agencies and humanitarian organizations."
It was technically true, though it left out significant details about the methods we'd used in the past.
"Tyler's parents are very upset," Principal Martinez continued. "They're concerned that Addison might pose a threat to their son's safety."
"Does Tyler pose a threat to my daughter's emotional safety?" I countered. "Because from what I'm hearing, he was engaging in systematic harassment based on prejudice against our family structure."
"Bullying is never acceptable, and we will be addressing Tyler's behavior as well. But Mrs. Mitchell, Addison's response suggests she's been exposed to concepts about violence and intimidation that are concerning for a ten-year-old."
I looked at my daughter, seeing the confusion and hurt in her eyes. She'd been trying to defend our family using the only framework she understood - that people who protected others were strong, and people who hurt others needed to be stopped.
"Addison," I said gently, "what Tyler said about our family was wrong and hurtful. But threatening him wasn't the right way to handle the situation."
"What was the right way?"
"You could have told a teacher immediately. You could have walked away and reported the bullying. You could have asked Tyler to stop and explained why his words were hurtful."
"But what if he didn't stop? What if he kept being mean and making other kids think bad things about us?"
The question revealed the heart of the problem. Addison had learned to see conflict in terms of escalation and permanent solutions because that's how we'd always handled threats to our family.
"Then you let the adults handle it. Teachers, principals, parents - we're the ones who deal with bigger problems."
"Like how you and the uncles deal with bigger problems?"
I realized I was walking into dangerous territory. "Yes, but our work involves very different kinds of problems than what you'll face at school."
"Mrs. Mitchell," Principal Martinez interrupted, "I think it would be beneficial for Addison to speak with our school counselor about appropriate conflict resolution strategies."
"That's fine," I said. "But I also think it would be beneficial for Tyler and his parents to understand that harassment based on family structure is unacceptable."
"We will absolutely be addressing that as well."
As we left the principal's office, Addison slipped her hand into mine with the trust that had characterized our relationship since birth.
"Mama, am I in trouble?"
"You're not in trouble for wanting to defend our family. But we need to talk about better ways to handle situations like this."
"Are you disappointed in me?"
I stopped walking and knelt down to her level, seeing my own childhood fears reflected in her dark eyes.
"I'm proud of you for standing up for what you believe in. But I'm concerned that you think threatening people is an appropriate response to conflict."
"Isn't it? When bad people hurt good people, don't we stop them?"
"Sometimes, yes. But Tyler isn't a bad person, sweetheart. He's a confused kid who's been taught to judge things he doesn't understand."
"So we teach him better?"
"We try to. But if he won't learn, we protect ourselves by staying away from him, not by threatening him."
As we reached the car, I realized that this incident was just the beginning. Our children were growing up with knowledge and perspectives that set them apart from their peers in ways that could be both protective and isolating.
The question was whether we could teach them to navigate that difference without losing either their innocence or their ability to defend themselves.
But as I watched Addison buckle her seatbelt with the methodical precision she applied to everything, I wondered if we'd already passed the point where normal childhood was possible for any of our children.
And that realization terrified me more than any enemy we'd ever faced.