The Leather-Clad School Bus Driver Who Never Smiled Took a Job Driving Kids Through Foggy Backroads — And Every Parent Slowly Realized He Watched the Mirrors Like Their Children’s Lives Depended on It

“My son says he watches them like he’s counting something.”

By Friday morning, a mother named Sarah Collins, who had lived on Pine Hollow Road long enough to believe she understood people at a glance, finally approached him as the last child climbed aboard, her tone careful, polite, edged with unease.

“You know,” she said, folding her arms loosely, “you don’t have to be so intense, they’re just kids.”

Rowan met her eyes briefly, and for a moment, something old and heavy flickered there before settling back into stillness.

“That’s exactly why,” he replied.

Then he closed the door, checked his mirrors, and drove away.

The following Tuesday arrived wrapped in a fog so thick it clung to the valley roads like wet cotton, turning familiar curves into gray tunnels where distance lost meaning, and most drivers moved too quickly out of frustration rather than caution, anxious to beat the clock rather than respect it.

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