Heather watched Ava’s profile, the gentle curve of her daughter’s cheek illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp. She wanted to reach into the silence, to pull Ava’s thoughts into the open air, but there was a wall she couldn’t see, only feel.
The parent-teacher conference was looming, a gathering storm she couldn’t ignore. Heather felt the pressure building, the expectation to confront Ava’s social struggles, her slipping grades, and the dismissive school administration.
The school had become an adversary in its own right, their dismissive tones and selective attentiveness during meetings a reminder of her minor role in Ava’s academic life. Heather felt sidelined, a bystander in decisions that mattered most.
Her ex’s voice played in her mind, “You’re overreacting.” But was she? The question lingered, unanswered.
Heather’s gaze drifted to the window, the city lights twinkling in the distance, a sea of lives moving forward. She wondered if Ava felt as isolated as she did, caught in the current but unable to reach the shore.
“Mom, I’m okay,” Ava’s voice broke the silence, a soft reassurance that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Heather nodded, accepting the words but not the truth behind them. She squeezed Ava’s shoulder gently, a silent promise of support.
The night stretched on, a quiet companion to their thoughts. Heather knew the conference would come, the questions, the judgments, but for now, she held onto the moment, the fragile peace between them.
The room seemed to exhale, a tentative release of tension, but the undercurrent remained, a reminder of what was to come.
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