Gemotions

The kindergarten classroom was a blur of primary colors and high-pitched squeals. Mrs. Gable's voice, though softer than she remembered, still resonated with a chilling familiarity. He felt a phantom pain in his left hand, recalling a detention and a ruler. His son, Leo, tugged at his sleeve, oblivious to the turmoil raging within him.

He offered a weak smile, fighting back the tide of memories. He wanted to scoop Leo up, whisk him away from this place that held such a strong grip on his past. He forced himself to crouch down, to look his son in the eyes, and he struggled to speak in a calm voice.

He knew he couldn't run. He would not. He needed to be strong for Leo.