She thought she was just picking up paperwork.
That’s what the school secretary had said. “Swing by after lunch—just a few forms to sign. Nothing big.”
She almost didn’t go.
It had been months since she left—months of cancer treatments, of aching bones and quiet battles fought in hospital gowns instead of classrooms. The thought of walking through those halls—her halls—without the strength to teach felt like reopening a wound she was barely starting to heal.
Still, something nudged her.
So she came.
And when she turned the corner toward her old hallway, she froze.
