Gemotions

The parking lot swam before Sarah's eyes. The sun glared down, reflecting harshly off the asphalt. She felt detached, as if watching herself from a distance as she fumbled with her phone, searching for the school's directory. Ms. Thompson. It couldn't be. Not *the* Ms. Thompson.

Her palms began to sweat. She leaned against the car, suddenly exhausted. She’d pictured her daughter’s school experience very differently. A fresh start. New faces. The comforting distance of the unknown. Her mind filled with images of dusty chalkboards and the sharp, critical gaze of a woman whose voice she still heard in her nightmares.

A wave of nausea hit. She pressed her hand against her stomach, trying to steady herself. This felt like a trick, a cruel joke. She needed air. Needed to sit. Before she walked in there and did something she would later regret.