Chapter 3 Locked Out

# Chapter 3: Locked Out

Morning arrived too quickly after a night of minimal sleep and maximum anxiety. I'd spent hours strengthening our digital security, changing passwords, and preparing contingency plans. But watching the triplets eat their breakfast with unusual quietness, I knew they sensed the tension.

"Are we in trouble, Mommy?" Ethan asked, pushing his cereal around the bowl.

I sighed and sat down with them. "No, sweetie. But we need to be extra careful today. If anyone asks about you or me, or if you see anyone unfamiliar at school, I want you to tell your teacher immediately."

"Is it because of what we did?" Oliver's lower lip trembled.

"Partly," I admitted. "But remember what I've always taught you—our actions have consequences, and we have to face them bravely."

"Will we have to move again?" Lily asked, her hazel eyes—so much like her father's—seeing right through me.

The question struck me hard. We'd moved twice in their short lives, and each time, I'd promised it would be the last. They deserved stability, friends, and a normal childhood—not a life of constantly looking over their shoulders.

"Not if I can help it," I said, summoning a confidence I didn't entirely feel. "Now finish up. We need to leave early today."

I drove them to school, hyper-vigilant of every car around us, every pedestrian who glanced our way. The school seemed normal as we arrived, but I escorted them all the way to their classroom door rather than dropping them at the entrance as usual.

"Remember what I said," I whispered, kneeling to hug them goodbye. "Any strangers, you tell Ms. Harper right away."

They nodded solemnly, and I watched them walk into their classroom, a heaviness settling in my chest. As I turned to leave, I spotted the school director waving me over.

"Ms. Greenwood, could I have a word?" she asked, her expression unreadable.

My heart raced. "Of course."

She led me to her office, closing the door behind us. "I received a rather unusual call this morning. A Mr. Preston has added himself to the triplets' authorized pickup list. He provided all the necessary documentation—birth certificates listing him as the father."

My mouth went dry. "That's impossible. I never registered him—"

"That's what I thought," she nodded. "I wanted to confirm with you before adding him to the system. The documents appeared legitimate, but our policy requires confirmation from the custodial parent."

Ted had found their birth certificates. Of course he had. When I'd "died," I couldn't risk falsifying the children's birth records completely—that would have created problems for them later in life. Instead, I'd listed Ted as the father but established myself as sole custodial parent with no contact requirements.

"He is not authorized," I said firmly. "Under no circumstances is he to have contact with my children."

She nodded, making a note in her computer. "Understood. We take security very seriously, Ms. Greenwood. Rest assured, your children are safe here."

I thanked her and left, pulling out my phone as I walked to my car. I needed to call my lawyer, update our custody paperwork, maybe file a restraining order—

"Wilona."

The voice stopped me cold. A voice I hadn't heard in five years except in my dreams and nightmares. Deep, familiar, and now directly behind me.

I turned slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. And there he was. Ted Preston, looking both exactly the same and completely different. The same tall frame, the same light hazel eyes, but harder lines around his mouth, a new intensity in his gaze. He wore a simple black suit that probably cost more than my monthly rent, his dark hair slightly longer than he used to keep it.

"You're alive," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I glanced around frantically, relieved to see we were alone in the parking lot. "Not here," I hissed. "There are security cameras."

"I don't care about cameras. You've been alive all this time—"

"Ted, please. Not here."

His jaw tightened, but he nodded toward a sleek black car parked nearby. "My car. We can talk privately."

I shook my head. "Meet me at the coffee shop two blocks south. Twenty minutes."

Without waiting for his response, I hurried to my own car, hands shaking so badly I could barely insert the key. As I drove away, I watched him in my rearview mirror, standing motionless where I'd left him.

The coffee shop was small and usually quiet at this hour. I chose a corner table with a clear view of both exits and waited, ordering a tea I knew I wouldn't drink. Precisely eighteen minutes later, Ted walked in, eyes scanning the room until they locked on mine.

He sat across from me, neither of us speaking for what felt like an eternity.

"You let me think you were dead," he finally said, his voice controlled but with an undercurrent of pain that surprised me.

"I did what I had to do to protect my children," I replied evenly.

"Our children." The emphasis wasn't lost on me. "Three of them. Triplets."

I nodded.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

The question hung between us like a live wire. "Would it have mattered? You made your choice, Ted. The merger, the engagement to Vivian—"

"A merger that fell apart when you 'died,'" he cut in. "An engagement that never happened until five years later. I mourned you, Wilona. I thought I'd lost you forever."

Confusion swept through me. "What are you talking about? You broke up with me for the merger. You said—you made it very clear that I wasn't part of your future."

Ted's expression changed to one of shock, then dawning comprehension. "Is that what you thought? That I ended things because of the business deal?"

"That's what you told me!"

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it made my chest ache. "I was trying to protect you. Margaret threatened you—she said she'd destroy your career, your reputation... worse. I thought pushing you away was the only way to keep you safe."

The revelation hit me like a physical blow. "So you decided for me? Without even telling me the truth?"

"I was wrong," he admitted, regret etching his features. "By the time I realized my mistake, you were gone. The accident report, the death certificate—everything looked legitimate. I never imagined..."

"That I'd fake my own death to escape your stepmother?" I finished bitterly. "Well, her threat wasn't just to my career. Someone ran me off the road, Ted. I was pregnant with your children, and someone tried to kill me. I found her note in my hospital room."

His face paled. "What note?"

I recounted the whole story—the accident, the threat, my decision to disappear. With each detail, his expression grew darker.

"She told me you'd left the country," he said when I finished. "That you'd taken a job overseas and wanted no contact. Then came the accident report... I never questioned it. I should have, but I was broken, Wilona. I thought I'd driven you away and gotten you killed."

The pain in his voice seemed genuine, but five years of fear and single parenthood had made me cautious. "Why are you here now? How did you find us?"

A hint of a smile touched his lips. "Your children are... resourceful. The IP address from the drone hack wasn't as well-masked as they probably thought. It led me to their school, and once I had that, finding you wasn't difficult."

"And now what? You've found us. What do you want?"

"To meet them," he said simply. "They're my children too, Wilona."

I tensed. "Ted—"

"I'm not here to disrupt your lives or take them from you," he added quickly. "I just want to know them. To be part of their lives, if you'll allow it."

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Emergency at school. Come immediately."

I stood so abruptly I nearly knocked over my untouched tea. "Something's wrong at the school."

Ted was instantly on his feet. "I'll drive."

"No, I—"

"My car's faster, and you're shaking. Please, Wilona."

He was right. I was in no condition to drive. We raced to his car, and true to his word, he got us back to the school in minutes, breaking several speed limits along the way.

The school appeared calm from the outside, no emergency vehicles or signs of trouble. I rushed to the entrance, Ted close behind. When I reached for the door, I found it locked—unusual during school hours.

I pressed the security intercom. "This is Wilona Greenwood. I received an emergency message about my children."

No response.

Ted tried next. "This is Ted Preston. I need to enter the building immediately."

The intercom crackled to life, but instead of the school secretary's voice, a child's voice—Lily's voice—came through.

"Sorry, but you can't come in."

I pressed the button again. "Lily? Sweetheart, what's going on? Are you okay?"

"We're fine, Mommy," she replied cheerfully. "We just needed you to come back."

Ted stepped closer to the intercom. "Lily? This is... this is Ted."

A pause, then: "We know who you are. Your face doesn't match our security parameters."

I suppressed a groan as understanding dawned. "Lily, did you three hack the school's security system?"

"It wasn't very hard," came Oliver's voice now. "But don't worry, we only locked the front entrance. Teachers can still get out the back if there's a real emergency."

Ted looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and—was that pride? "Did they just say they hacked the school's security system?"

"Welcome to my world," I muttered, then addressed the intercom again. "Why did you lock us out, kids?"

Ethan's voice joined the conversation. "We saw him following you, Mommy. The facial recognition program identified him as Ted Preston."

"We were protecting you," Lily added. "Like you protect us."

My heart swelled with love for these brilliant, misguided children. "I appreciate that, but I'm fine. Please unlock the door."

"Not until he proves he's not going to take you away," Lily insisted.

Ted stepped forward again. "I promise I'm not here to take your mom away. I just wanted to meet you."

"Promises are just words," came Lily's skeptical reply. "If you really want to talk to Mommy, you have to transfer 999 million dollars first."

I gasped. "Lily!"

Ted, to my surprise, chuckled. "Nine hundred and ninety-nine million? That's quite specific."

"We calculated it," Oliver chimed in. "Based on average child support payments for five years, multiplied by three children, plus emotional damages, plus inflation."

"And we've already locked your primary account," Lily added casually. "Just until we trust you."

Ted's eyes widened, and he turned to me. "Did they just say they locked my bank account?"

"I told you they were resourceful," I replied, unable to keep the note of pride from my voice despite the situation.

He turned back to the intercom. "I can see you're very smart and very protective of your mother. I respect that. But maybe we could talk face to face? I've waited a very long time to meet you."

A long silence followed, presumably as the triplets conferred among themselves. Finally, Lily's voice returned.

"We'll think about it. But for now, you're still locked out. And Mommy, we sent you a real message from school. Ms. Harper wants to talk to you about our science project."

The intercom went dead. Ted and I stared at each other, both processing what had just happened.

"They're... extraordinary," he said finally.

"They're five-year-old hackers who just locked the CEO of Preston Technologies out of a building and possibly froze his assets," I corrected, though I couldn't help the small smile that formed.

Ted didn't seem upset. Instead, he pulled out his phone and began typing rapidly.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Calling a press conference," he replied, a determined gleam in his eye. "If they want proof of my intentions, I'll give it to them—and the whole world."

"Ted, what are you planning?"

He looked up, his expression softer than I'd seen it all day. "Something I should have done five years ago—fighting for what matters most."

As we stood there, locked out of the school by our own children, I realized with a sinking feeling that my carefully constructed life was about to be blown wide open—and there wasn't a firewall in the world that could stop it.