She hesitated, her gaze darting toward the empty hallway, fear etched onto her young face. “She got mad,” she said finally, her voice trembling. “I spilled juice. She said I did it on purpose. She pushed me into the closet. My back hit the handle. I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to disappear.”
A wave of anger surged within me, battling with the sadness that had taken root. I didn’t know what to say, how to make this okay. But I knew one thing for certain: things couldn’t stay as they were.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
