Gemotions

The school hallway seemed to stretch for miles. Sarah quickened her pace, her sensible shoes clicking a frantic rhythm against the tile. A wave of heat flushed her cheeks. Mr. Henderson. It couldn't be. Not *the* Mr. Henderson. She'd managed to avoid him for over twenty years, a subconscious strategy, it seemed, until this moment. She gripped the brightly colored permission slip tighter, the paper crinkling in her grasp. Her daughter, Lily, would be mortified.

She found the classroom, the number on the door familiar, the handwriting on the sign above it, less so. Her throat felt thick, and she had to swallow several times before she could even knock. The door swung open, and there he was, a little older, a little grayer, but undeniably Mr. Henderson. She plastered on a smile, the muscles in her face strained. "Hello, Mr. Henderson. I'm Lily's mom."