Gemotions

Sarah’s hands folded neatly in her lap as she sat in the brightly lit school office. The polished wood of the desk gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The secretary, a woman with a kind smile, was explaining the class assignments. “And for third grade, your daughter, Emily, will be in Mrs. Peterson’s class.” Sarah nodded slowly, her lips curving slightly upward.

A wave of warmth spread through her chest. It was the same Mrs. Peterson she had, all those years ago. The memory was gentle, like sunlight filtering through leaves. She remembered the way Mrs. Peterson always wore colorful sweaters and had a knack for making even the most boring subjects interesting.

“That’s wonderful,” Sarah said, her voice soft and pleasant. A small smile played on her lips. She thought about Emily, imagining her daughter’s reaction to this news. Surely, Emily would be pleased too.