The bus driver notices a CRYING girl every day, looks under the SEAT after getting off and FAILS at what he sees…

Through his car window, Walter observed Greg hand something to Rory to drink. From this distance, he couldn’t tell if it was alcohol or something innocent, like water or soda. The girl took it without enthusiasm, keeping her gaze downward.

Walter’s finger hovered over the emergency call button on his phone. Should he call the police? What if he was overreacting and there was a perfectly innocent explanation for everything he’d seen? But what if he wasn’t, and Rory was in real danger? As he debated with himself, Greg’s car pulled away from the curb. Making a split-second decision, Walter started his engine.

He would follow them, just to make sure Rory was safe, and meanwhile keep trying to reach someone in authority who could help. As Walter followed Greg’s sedan at a discreet distance, he racked his brain for other ways to help Rory. The principal hadn’t responded to his message, but perhaps there was someone else at the school he could contact.

With one eye on the road ahead, Walter scrolled through his contacts until he found the number for Rory’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Margaret. He had met her at the beginning of the school year, during the staff orientation day, and remembered her as a caring, attentive educator. He put the phone on speaker and placed it in the cup holder as it rang.

Hello, a female voice answered after the third ring. Ms. Margaret, this is Walter Harmon, the driver for Bus Route 14. Yes, Mr. Harmon.

Is everything all right? Her voice held a note of surprise at receiving a call from a bus driver. I’m calling about one of your students, Rory Carson, Walter explained, keeping his voice low, even though there was no way Greg or Rory could hear him from the other car. Have you noticed anything unusual about her behavior lately? There was a pause before Ms. Margaret responded, her tone more serious.

Actually, yes, she’s very quiet, never approaches any of the other students for friendship, and she’s been excusing herself to the restroom multiple times during class. Walter nodded to himself, another piece of the puzzle falling into place. Anything else? Today she seemed particularly unwell, Ms. Margaret continued.

I suggested she go to the clinic, but apparently she went to the theater room instead and fell asleep. One of the drama teachers found her there later. Did you report this to Principal Daniels? Walter asked, carefully maintaining his distance from Greg’s car as they turned onto the highway.

Yes, but he dismissed it as typical new student rebellion, said he’d deal with her tomorrow after his meeting with the school board. Ms. Margaret paused. Why are you asking about this, Mr. Harmon? Has something happened on your bus? Walter took a deep breath.

I found something under Rory’s seat today. He briefly pulled over to send Ms. Margaret the same photos he’d sent to the principal. I’m sending you pictures now.

He heard the soft ping of a received message, then silence as Ms. Margaret presumably examined the images. These are birth control pills, she finally said, her voice hushed with concern. Where exactly did you find these? Hidden under the seat where Rory always sits, Walter confirmed.

Based on what I’ve observed and what you’ve just told me, I’m very worried about her. This is serious, Ms. Margaret agreed. The parents need to know about this immediately.

I’ve been trying to reach them, Walter explained, describing his earlier visit to their home and his current situation following Greg’s car. I’m considering calling the police, but I’m not sure if that’s the right move yet. Please don’t call the police just yet, Ms. Margaret urged.

Principal Daniels would be furious if we involved law enforcement without his approval. We should try to handle this internally first. I’ll see if I can find the mother’s contact information in our system.

Walter noticed that Greg’s car was now heading toward the outskirts of town, away from residential areas. They’re driving to the edge of town now, he reported. I’m going to stay with them and make sure Rory’s safe.

Be careful, Walter, Ms. Margaret cautioned. Keep me updated and I’ll try to reach the mother. After ending the call, Walter focused on maintaining a safe following distance as Greg’s sedan continued down the highway.

After about 45 minutes of driving, they turned off toward a rural park, a spacious area with walking trails, picnic grounds, and a small lake. It was approaching 4 30 p.m. and while the park wasn’t crowded, there were still a few families enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. Greg parked in the lot near the entrance and Walter found a spot several rows away where he could observe without being obvious.

He watched as Greg and Rory got out of the car and walked toward the picnic area. Greg carried a small cooler while Rory trailed behind him, her posture suggesting reluctance. Walter waited until they were settled before cautiously exiting his own vehicle and following on foot, maintaining his distance but keeping them in sight.

A sense of dread pooled in Walter’s stomach, but he hoped it’s just a regular family picnic. But why did the girl look so miserable if this was just an innocent family outing? Walter made his way through the park, staying on the paths and trying to appear like any other visitor enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. He kept Greg and Rory in his peripheral vision, not wanting to draw attention to himself by staring directly at them.

The stepfather had set up a picnic blanket on the grass, arranging items from the cooler he’d brought. Walter observed as Greg opened a bottle of beer for himself and handed Rory what appeared to be a soft drink in a can. Relief washed over Walter at the sight.

At least Greg wasn’t giving alcohol to a minor as he had feared earlier. From his vantage point on a nearby bench, Walter watched their interaction. What might have looked like a normal family picnic to casual observers struck him as distinctly uncomfortable.

Rory sat stiffly at the edge of the blanket, barely touching her drink. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, responding to Greg’s occasional comments with minimal movement. At one point, Greg reached over and placed his hands on Rory’s shoulders in what appeared to be a joking massage.

The girl immediately tensed and shoved his hands away with surprising force. Greg laughed it off, but Walter could see the brief flash of anger in his expression. Maybe I am overreacting, Walter murmured to himself, doubt creeping in…