In the corridor, Diane walked silently, for once not dragging her feet or cracking a joke. Carol matched her pace, glancing at her daughter’s lowered eyes. The silence between them was uneasy but fragile, like new glass—one careless word could shatter it completely.
Outside, the sunlight seemed too bright. Diane squinted, muttering, “She’s… scary.” Carol swallowed a reply. What she wanted to say was: No. She’s strong. Stronger than I ever was. Instead, she only nodded, holding her daughter’s shoulder lightly as though afraid she’d slip from her grasp.