Gemotions

The drive to school felt like an eternity. Seeing Mrs. Delaney's name on the teacher roster had sent a bolt of pure, icy shock through me. She had been my third grade teacher, and a cold wave of memories came flooding back.

My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were white. Each corner I turned felt like a step closer to a terrible inevitability. My breathing became shallow, rapid. The car felt stifling, the air thick with apprehension.

My daughter, Chloe, chattered excitedly in the backseat, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within me. I fought to keep my voice light, to appear calm. I kept glancing at the rear-view mirror, as if trying to locate something. I felt very, very small.