What would Maggie look like now?
Lily shifted awkwardly.
Her eyes dropped to the marker on the floor.
Then back to me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
The word came out too quickly.
I bent down to retrieve the marker so she wouldn’t see my hands trembling.
“Yes. Sorry. You’re the new transfer student, right?”
She nodded.
“Lily.”
I assigned her a seat in the third row and continued teaching.
At least, I think I continued teaching.
My mouth moved.
Words came out.
I wrote things on the board.
Students answered questions.
But my mind kept returning to the girl sitting in the third row.
Every glance in her direction hurt.
When lunch finally came, I locked myself inside a bathroom stall and cried silently into my hands.
I felt ridiculous.
Ashamed, even.
This child had done nothing.
She had simply walked into a classroom.
After several minutes, I washed my face and stared at my reflection.
