The hallway apologies — and what they wanted to build
I went into the side hallway to catch my breath.
My legs were shaking. My throat felt scraped raw.
Then Brittany showed up.
Her perfect curls were frizzed at the edges like she’d been running. She approached like the floor was glass.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice cracked.
I stared at her, waiting for the excuse.
None came.
“We were so mean,” she said. “And we thought it was harmless. But it wasn’t. And I… I’m sorry.”
Behind her were others.
Tyler, who once drew a cartoon of my grandma holding a mop.
