When Daniel, Sarah, and their seven-year-old son, Derril, moved to a new city, everything felt like a fresh start. The change was challenging, but there were plenty of reasons to feel hopeful. One of the biggest was Derril’s new school. Unlike his old one, where soccer was barely noticed, this school had a dedicated soccer program. For Derril, who lived and breathed the sport, it was a dream come true.
“I’m happy about the move, Dad,” Derril told Daniel one day while they shopped for new soccer boots. “My old school only cared about baseball and basketball. Here, soccer actually matters!”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Daniel said, ruffling his son’s hair. “We didn’t just move for Mom’s job—we wanted you to be happy, too.”
Derril grinned and nodded eagerly, but his enthusiasm didn’t last long.
At first, things seemed great. Daniel settled into his work-from-home cybersecurity job, and Sarah adjusted to her new position. But as weeks turned into months, something changed in Derril.
His once-bright energy dimmed. He no longer rushed home excitedly to tell his parents about soccer practice. He became quiet, withdrawn, and distant.
“Something’s wrong with Derril,” Daniel said one morning while making breakfast.
“I know,” Sarah admitted. “When I try to talk to him, he just stares at me, then looks away. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Maybe he’s just adjusting? New school, new friends—it’s a lot. He’s still eating and sleeping fine, so maybe we just need to give him time.”
But Daniel’s attempt at rationalizing the situation fell apart when he found Derril crying in his room one afternoon.
Daniel sat beside him, heart aching at the sight of his son’s tear-streaked face. “Hey, buddy. What’s wrong? Please, tell me. I know something’s been bothering you.”
Derril looked up, his little chest rising and falling with deep, shaky breaths. And then, in a broken voice, he said something that made Daniel’s blood run cold.
“I don’t want Mr. Sanders to be my father!”
Daniel froze. “What? Derril, what do you mean?”
His son wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “Yesterday, when Mom picked me up from practice, he hugged her. And she didn’t push him away.”
Daniel’s heart pounded in his chest.
Mr. Sanders was Derril’s soccer coach. Up until now, Derril had admired him. But this? This was something else entirely.
Determined to get answers, Daniel left work early the next day and drove to the soccer field. He parked far enough away to watch without being noticed. He needed to see what was really going on between Sarah and Mr. Sanders.
When practice ended, Sarah arrived to pick up Derril. Daniel watched as Mr. Sanders approached her. They exchanged a few words. Then, to Daniel’s shock, the coach placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder, leaning in slightly.
“They look way too comfortable,” Daniel muttered to himself.
Sarah smiled but stepped back, her eyes darting around as if she felt someone watching.
That night, Daniel confronted his wife. He had to know the truth.
“Sarah, what’s going on with you and Mr. Sanders?”
Her face went pale. “What? Nothing! Why would you ask that?”
“Derril thinks he’s trying to replace me,” Daniel said. “And today, I saw him touch your shoulder.”
Sarah’s eyes widened in shock. “Daniel, no! It’s not what you think! He’s been helping me with something—something I haven’t told you about yet.”
Daniel folded his arms. “Then tell me now.”
Sarah took a shaky breath. “There’s a man… he’s dangerous. Mr. Sanders recognized him from his past. He’s been stalking me.”
Daniel’s stomach turned. “What? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Mr. Sanders said it would be safer not to react openly. He’s been keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn’t get too close.”
Daniel ran a hand down his face. “This is something for the police, not for a soccer coach to handle.”
“He talked to a detective friend,” Sarah admitted. “But unless the guy actually does something, they can’t arrest him.”
That was unacceptable to Daniel. “Then let’s talk to Mr. Sanders ourselves.”
Sarah agreed, and they met with the coach the next day. Mr. Sanders confirmed everything, even showing them photos and evidence of the man’s criminal past.
“I know his type,” Mr. Sanders said grimly. “He fixates on successful women. I saw him at practice, watching Sarah. I knew he was after her.”
Daniel clenched his jaw. “And how do you know this guy?”
Mr. Sanders sighed. “I had a rough past. Fell in with the wrong crowd, but I got out before it was too late. I’ve seen men like him before.”
Daniel didn’t trust easily, but the evidence was solid. He had to accept that Mr. Sanders had been looking out for them.
That night, as Daniel and Sarah discussed security measures for their home, Derril ran into the living room, his face pale with fear.
“There’s someone outside my window!” he screamed.
Sarah grabbed her phone to call the police while Daniel rushed to Derril’s room, gripping a baseball bat from the hallway. He peered out the window—and there, near a tree, a dark figure lurked.
Minutes later, sirens wailed, and flashing red-and-blue lights filled the street. Officers stormed the yard, tackling the man before he could run.
“It’s him,” one officer confirmed. “He’s got a record of harassment and breaking restraining orders. He’s going away for a long time.”
The next day, Mr. Sanders visited them, bringing a box of pastries. Derril happily dug in, the weight on his little shoulders finally lifted.
“I’m sorry for any confusion or stress I caused,” Mr. Sanders said sincerely. “I just wanted to protect Sarah and Derril.”
Daniel nodded. “Thank you.”
The nightmare was over, but an unease still lingered. Mr. Sanders had done a lot to help, but something about him made Daniel uneasy. Maybe it was just the stress of the situation, or maybe it was his past. Either way, Daniel wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in this city any longer.
“Are we really safe here?” he wondered.
Deep down, he wasn’t so sure.
