Caleb didn’t know how to answer. In the distance, the school bell chimed, reminding him he was late yet again. He turned and sprinted the rest of the way, hands nicked from the glass, heart pounding with adrenaline.
When he burst into his classroom, Mr. Lawson’s stern gaze met him. “Caleb Whitman,” the teacher said, his voice sharp, “late again.”
All eyes in the room landed on him. Caleb opened his mouth to explain, then hesitated. The story sounded impossible. Who would believe he had smashed open a car to save a baby? He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“That’s not good enough,” Mr. Lawson replied. “This afternoon, I’ll be calling your parents. You need to learn responsibility.”
Caleb slid into his seat, cheeks burning, listening as a few classmates snickered. He stared at his stinging palms, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake. At recess, whispers followed him. Some kids joked about how he could never show up on time. Caleb stayed silent, his thoughts circling back to the baby’s flushed face. He knew, deep down, he would do it all over again.
What Caleb didn’t realize was that the woman from the parking lot had traced his steps to the school.