The principal’s eyes softened, though her tone remained steady. “Children learn what they live. They pass it on. I see it in Diane. And I see it in you.” The mirror was unbearable. Carol blinked rapidly, willing back tears she hadn’t shed in decades.
The principal leaned forward. “Do you remember me now?” Carol’s breath hitched. Recognition, once a shadow, now sharpened into certainty. She saw the girl from years ago—the one shrinking behind books, mocked daily, ignored by teachers. And herself, laughing loudest. Shame flooded her like ice water.