Uncharted Fate

Eleanor's heart swelled with affection as she watched the two boys racing around the table, their laughter contagious and carefree. Despite her best efforts to remain impartial and be a teacher without favorites, she couldn't help but have a soft spot for the Ashton family's children. They were a joy to be around, and their energy was infectious.

Her gaze drifted to the youngest member of the family, who was sleeping soundly, exhausted from entertaining her with tales of their weekend adventure at the water park. Eleanor's grin lingered as she remembered the child's enthusiastic storytelling.

But her nostalgia was short-lived, as a sudden scream pierced the air. One of the boys had taken a tumble, just as she had feared. Eleanor rushed to his side, concern etched on her face. The boy, Rory, cradled his elbow, his face scrunched up in pain and disappointment. He looked up at Eleanor, his eyes welling up with tears, and sniffled, trying to hold them back.

"Rory, I told you to slow down!" Eleanor chastised gently, examining his scraped elbow with a tender touch. Her voice was firm but laced with empathy, a perfect blend of teacherly concern and maternal warmth.

The children gathered around, their eyes fixed on the faint crimson bloom on Rory's elbow, cooing sympathetic sounds. Tears began to roll down his face as he gazed at his brother, who stood quietly in the corner, looking guilty.

Eleanor asked, "What happened?" while signaling to a student to fetch the first aid box. Rory whispered, "Nothing," swiping at his tears, but more followed. She knew he wouldn't talk, always protecting his brother from punishment.

This time, she pressed him, "Rory, I need you to say something. You can't have an injury if nothing happened." She led him to her desk, the children following, and tended to his scrape with disinfectant, ointment, and a tiger-printed band-aid.

"All better?" she asked, and he managed a small smile, nodding. Her heart broke at the sight, and she pecked his forehead, making him giggle. The other children protested, "I want a kiss too!" Eleanor obliged, pecking the heads of all nineteen kids, filling the room with their joyful giggles.

Eleanor's gaze lingered on the brothers, now engrossed in coloring, and she smiled, cherishing their innocence. This was why she became a kindergarten teacher - to nurture and guide young minds, untainted by the malice of adulthood. She preferred the honest, if sometimes challenging, nature of children to the backstabbing ways of grown-ups.

The closing bell snapped her out of her reverie, and she clapped her hands, signaling the end of the day. "Time to go home, remember the routine!" The children closed their books, packed their bags, and chorused their thanks. She beamed with pride at her "precious little babies."

As parents arrived to collect their children, Eleanor helped with bags and shoes, exchanging pleasantries with the adults. When most of the class had departed, she turned to the remaining three - Cory, Rory, and their sleeping sister, Nora. The brothers were taking turns poking Nora's cheek, whispering, "Wake up, Nora." Eleanor approached them, tapping their shoulders, and they turned to her with mischievous grins.

"Grab my bag and Nora's bag," she instructed, and they scurried to comply, bickering over who would carry her bag. "You took it last week!" Rory protested, while Cory denied it. Eleanor knew they'd settle it with their favorite method - Rock, Paper, Scissors, taught to them by their dad.

With Nora sleeping in her arms, Eleanor held Cory's hand, knowing he might dart off, and led him out of the classroom. Rory followed, helping her lock up before they headed to the street. Their dad was unusually late, and Eleanor's concern grew. She checked her watch - 3:05 PM. He was never this late. It's been over an hour since school closed, and he always sent a text or his assistant if he couldn't make it on time.

"Rory, please check for my phone," she asked, and he handed it to her. She dialed their dad's number, and he answered on the third ring, apologizing profusely. "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize the time."

Eleanor sighed, trying to remain calm. "It's fine, it happens. So, should I expect you soon?" But his response surprised her. "I'm in a meeting, and I have to get back to it. I'd have sent my assistant, but we both need to be here."

Confused, Eleanor asked, "What am I supposed to do?" Their dad hesitated before asking her to wait for him, promising to arrive within 45 minutes to an hour max. Eleanor took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and explained the situation - the impending rain, the chill, and the locked school gate.

He groaned, "Oh no, okay... How about this? I know it's asking too much, but could you please take them to your place?" He paused, his desperation evident. "Please, I beg you. I really can't leave right now, and I have no idea how to get them." 

Eleanor wondered why he hadn't asked their mother to pick them up, but decided not to ask. "Sir, that's not ethical, but I'm trying to understand your situation. I'll take them, but please don't take too long before coming to get them."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, I really appreciate it. Text me the address, I'm in a hurry, so I've got to go. Thanks again." The call ended, and Eleanor was left standing in the rain, which was getting heavier by the minute.

She cursed herself for leaving her car at home. She hurriedly waved down a cab, not wanting the rain to meet the kids outside. Cory, being the hyper active kid he was, waved his hand alongside in an over-exaggerated manner, and Rory copied. The rain started getting heavier, and they were getting drenched. The boys were enjoying the rain, and Nora laid now awake in her arms. Her frustration was rising; where did all the cabs go? 

She finally hailed a cab, but not before they all got soaked. The ride home was chaotic. The triplets were yelling and arguing about who got more soaked, and she was too tired to intervene. She stared out the window, watching the rain. She hated the rain. It always made her feel gloomy.