Gemotions

The notice from the school, a crisp white rectangle, sat on the kitchen counter like a taunt. Mrs. Periwinkle. Just the name itself seemed to curl at the edges, mocking Amelia. She'd spent a good chunk of her own childhood trying to wriggle out of Mrs. Periwinkle's grasp, failing miserably, much to the amusement of her older brother. Now, her own little Sophie was in that woman's class. Amelia tightened her jaw, eyes locked on the offending paper.

“She'll be fine," her husband, Daniel, offered, leaning in to grab a banana. Amelia grunted a noncommittal response, folding the flyer with a snap.

Later, at pick-up, Amelia made a point of parking her car further away from the main entrance. She wouldn’t be seen, wouldn’t be perceived as… agreeing. She stood back in the shadows, her arms crossed, watching the children spill out onto the pavement. Sophie, predictably, emerged with a beaming smile, waving frantically. Amelia plastered a smile on her face, but inside, a rebellious knot twisted.