She was staring past me, and the color had drained from her face.
Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned.
Miranda was no longer looking at me.
She was staring past me, and the color had drained from her face.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
A man stood behind me with two rolled towels under one arm and a paper bag in his other hand.
He set the bag down on a chair and turned to me.
Paul.
Miranda’s husband.
He stopped beside his wife, and with a cocked eyebrow, he said, “Miranda, what an interesting conversation you’ve been having. I could hear it all the way from the entrance.”
He set his bag down on a chair and turned to me.
People were still watching, but now they were watching Miranda.
“Ms. Harper, I am sorry,” he said. “You taught our son for six months while I was traveling for work, and he came home every week saying you were the first teacher who made him feel brave enough to read out loud.”
People were still watching, but now they were watching Miranda.
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Paul kept his eyes on me, which I understood for the gift it was.
I swallowed and tightened my arm around Daisy.
“I am sorry your day was interrupted,” he said.
I swallowed and tightened my arm around Daisy.
“We came here because my sister earned a happy day,” I said. “I will not let her remember it like this.”
Daisy buried her face against my side.
