Page 107 of Sexting the Pakhan

Karina says, “Terrifying child.”

“I heard that,” Nadia says.

Karina looks down at her. “I said inspiring child.”

Nadia studies her for two seconds. “No, you didn’t.”

Karina looks at me. “She’s going to cross-examine us one day.”

“She already does,” I say.

“I’m going to be President of the United States,” Nadia says.

“I’ve no doubt about that,” I say.

We drive to Little Birch Early Learning with twenty minutes to spare.

The building looks sweet in the fading light, almost aggressively sweet, with its painted fence and bright paper lanterns strung around the main entrance. Someone has taped handmade signs to the gate.

WELCOME FAMILIES!

FIRST STEPS PROGRAM!

PLEASE CHECK IN AT THE FRONT TABLE!

The girls see the lanterns and immediately begin vibrating.

Mila says, “Mama, it’s so beautiful.”

Nadia says, “The green lantern is crooked.”

Karina says, “Never change, Nadia.”

I turn into the small parking area beside the kindergarten, searching for a free spot between a minivan covered in dinosaurstickers and a sedan with a bumper sticker that saysMy child is my boss.

“Relatable,” I mutter.

As I pull in, movement catches my eye near the back service lane.

Two men stand by the far fence. They’re too far away to see clearly, half-hidden by the shadow of the mechanic’s shed next door. One of them bends near the gate, then straightens quickly. Another shape moves by a white van parked beyond the lane.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel.

For a second, I’m back in another place. Another life. Men moving where they shouldn’t be. The wrong kind of stillness. My body recognizing danger before my mind has permission to.

Karina notices my face. “Zoya?”

I keep my eyes on the rearview mirror. “Do you see those men?”

She leans forward slightly. “Where?”

“By the back fence.”

She squints. “The ones near the van?”

“Yes.”

Her voice changes. “They do look weird.”