Gemotions

The brightly colored posters and children’s artwork on the classroom walls felt like a mocking reminder of her own childhood. Emily stood in the doorway, watching her son, Noah, settle in at his desk. It was Ms. Davies, the woman who'd once called her "scatterbrained," and "unfocused."

She felt a wave of nausea, the room spinning slightly. She wanted to yank Noah out, shield him from the woman's judgment. She couldn’t.

She thought of the way Ms. Davies had dismissed her ideas, the way she'd made her feel small. Now, her own precious son was subject to the same potentially crushing critiques. It felt like history repeating itself, a cruel twist of fate.

She forced a smile, waving to Noah, who looked up with a confused expression. She turned and walked away, the knot in her stomach tightening. She had failed to make things different.