Gemotions

The school hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before Sarah. Each echoing footstep drummed a nervous tattoo against her ribs. She gripped her son, Leo’s, lunch bag so tightly her knuckles whitened. Seeing the familiar name tag on Mrs. Gable’s door – the same name, same woman – had sent a jolt of ice through her.

Her breath hitched. The air suddenly felt too thin. Leo, oblivious, tugged on her hand, eager to join the throng of children. “Mom, I want to go in!” he chirped. Sarah swallowed hard, forcing a smile that felt brittle on her face. Her memory flickered, replaying Mrs. Gable’s pointed critiques and disapproving glances from decades ago.

She pulled Leo closer, her voice tight, “Just a minute, sweetie.” Her gaze darted around, searching for an escape route, a reason to turn back. Her mind conjured up the image of the little girl she used to be – small, easily overlooked – and she instantly wanted to protect her son.