The principal’s tone softened slightly. “You are not beyond saving. But you are walking the path of those who once believed laughter erased pain. It doesn’t. It lingers. It scars.” Carol’s chest tightened until she could hardly breathe. The words were meant for Diane—but they were carved from Carol’s past.
The silence that followed was unbearable. Diane shifted, tugging at her sleeve, her bravado fully gone. Finally, the principal spoke again: “I’d like a word with your mother, alone.” Diane groaned, muttering, “Nobody gets it. I’m always the one getting targeted,” but the secretary was already at the door, waiting.