I stayed where I was.
The lock clicked.
Betty stepped out with mascara smudged beneath her eyes.
“My daughter is going through what I put you through.”
For a moment, I said nothing.
The lock clicked.
“Your daughter?”
“Layla. She’s nine.”
Betty gripped the sink until her knuckles paled.
“She has a thyroid condition. Her doctors are still adjusting her treatment, and her body changed before she understood what was happening.”
“Your daughter?”
“What happened at school?”
“Two girls started whispering whenever she walked past. Then someone edited her face onto a picture and sent it around.”
Betty wiped beneath her eyes.
“Last week, I found her cutting herself out of a class photo.”
My anger shifted, but it didn’t disappear.
“What happened at school?”
“What did you tell her?”
“That those girls were jealous and probably insecure.”
“You don’t believe that.”
Betty stared at me. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you weren’t cruel to me because you hated yourself.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
