Chapter 48 Chapter 48
Carter
Reality hit me like a stone as I scanned the blog on the school portal. This wasn't supposed to be.
I clicked on the comments, my eyes scanned each word that stood for the love my students had for me. They kept asking why Mr. Cater was leaving the school. I was glad. But who could have posted this? I was supposed to resume work on Monday, but I guess I won't be spending all of the leave they've granted me at home. I can't sit here idly while someone is trying to make the school sack me or probably just sabotage my career.
I stared at the screen again, thinking of who I could call to confirm what had happened. Rebecca was the first person that came to mind. I searched through my call log, found her number, and dialed it, putting it on speaker. Soon, her voice filled the room, shocking me.
"Hello, Rebecca," I said, my heart racing faster, not because of anything, but because I was scared to know the situation at school.
"Hello, Mr. Cater. How are you doing?" she asked.
"That's not why I called," I replied. "What about the news about me or the school blog? What's happening?"
She went mute for a while, only her breathing echoing. "The rumors are spreading all over the school, and I guess the only thing you can do is come to the school," she advised.
I nodded. "Thanks," I said, appreciating her suggestion before hanging up. I guess she just gave me the best advice. Going to school would be the best way to solve this.
I stood up, ready to go upstairs to change my clothes, when the door burst open. Samuel stepped inside, a basket full of different fruits in his hands, his eyes flashing with a smile that stopped when he noticed my gloomy face.
"Any problem?" he asked, walking further into the room, dropping the basket in his hand, his whole attention on me. I didn't know where to start explaining.
He knows me too well, if not, I would have brushed him off. But I knew he already sensed something was happening.
"Are you going to continue staring at me like that?" he asked, walking to sit down on the couch, and I sat beside him.
I went through my phone for a while before showing him the news, a gasp escaped his mouth.
"This looks so bad," he uttered, returning my phone.
"Really bad," I nodded, admitting they might sack me from school.
"What are you going to do?" he asked, squeezing his face together.
"For now, my only option is to go to school and clear myself," I said, staring at a space for a moment. "If I could go to school and explain the situation to them, I'm sure they'd understand." I raised my brows "If I didn't go, they might give me a termination letter," I added.
"No need for that," he said, leaning forward from the chair, his eyes narrowing. I knew he had thought deeply.
"I don't want you supporting what's happening with any law, let just think as a normal human" I uttered before he could even open his lips.
"There's no law that states that, to begin with," he smirked.
"Has the school management called you?" he asked,I shook my head.
"Then sit tight at home," he replied nonchalantly.
"Sit tight at home?" I repeated.
He nodded boldly. "What if things take a turn? How am I going to explain that?" I pressed.
"Nothing will take a turn, just sit your ass at home if the school management hasn't called for you," he said, adjusting his tie.
"If they need confirmation from you, if you're truly leaving the school, they will call you. And if they want to sack you, they will call you. So, either way, they will call you," he explained further.
For a moment, I wanted to believe, but I realized it was all a risk. What if the school management didn't call me for an explanation and only called me to deliver a termination letter? How would I react?
"You don't have to think about being sacked," Samuel said, as if he had read my thoughts. "You're excellent at your job, and they've never caught you doing anything unruly. It would be their loss if they sacked you."
"Don't say that," I replied, downplaying his optimism. "There are many good lecturers. I'm not the only one."
"You're great at what you do, and all the students appreciate you as one of their lecturers," Mila's voice echoed from the kitchen, capturing my attention.
I directed my gaze toward her, noticing the apron she wore and the faint flour stains on her cheeks.
"Mila!" Samuel exclaimed, as if he hadn't seen her in years.
"Mr. Samuel, it's been a while. Hope you're doing well?"
"Yes, I'm good, and you?" he asked, his smile broadening.
"Same here," Mila replied, walking closer to us.
She sat beside me, and my eyes followed her every move. She enveloped my hand in hers and squeezed gently, as if trying to soothe me.
"I guess I should excuse myself," Samuel said, standing up and heading upstairs.
"You shouldn't worry about the news, the school can't sack you without conducting a proper investigation," Mila said, smiling sweetly. Her innocent face captivated me for a moment, and my heart skipped a beat.
"I'm not worried," I lied.
"Besides, you should be worried about your daughter right now. You should find a way to call her back home," I added, attempting to divert the conversation.
"You know she's being stubborn, I've tried, but she's being unreasonable. I can't keep begging her, for goodness' sake," Mila replied, her voice trembling, as if she were on the verge of tears.
"But still, you have to try your best, she's your daughter. You should find a way to change her mind," I explained.
"I know," Mila replied, her gaze locking onto mine, her face turning serious. "If you were asked to choose between me and my daughter, who would you pick?" she asked nonchalantly, my heart racing faster.
Why were these two people asking me the same question?