Arlene's POV
When I pull open the door, Mr. Warner stands waiting in the hallway. The soundproof rooms should make me feel better about what just happened, but my stomach still plummets to the floor. There might be a hint of concern in his expression, though it's hard to tell with him.
He gives me a simple nod before I head downstairs, words stuck somewhere in my throat.
Warner waits at our usual meeting place, the same spot we've claimed since this whole mess began. As I approach, he rises and turns to face me.
His nostrils flare the moment he sees me.
"Hey," I manage to say, feeling ridiculous.
When he moves toward me quickly, I flinch instinctively. He stops mid-motion before gathering me into his arms.
"Why didn't you call me?" His voice carries an edge of demand. "I could have gotten here faster."
"It wasn't that serious. The kids didn't witness anything, and your father handled it."
