Melissa.
The breakfast was finally over.
That single thought echoed in my head as I remained seated, my back stiff, my hands folded neatly in my lap like a well-trained servant awaiting dismissal. I had learned long ago that rising too early was considered disrespectful. I had to wait, wait for each of them to finish, wait for their chairs to scrape against the floor, wait for them to stand and exit the dining table one after the other before I was allowed to leave.
Only then could I move.
The humiliation I had endured moments ago still clung to me, thick and suffocating, settling deep into my chest. It wasn’t new, yet somehow it always managed to hurt as though it were the first time. The whispers, the careless glances, the way my presence was acknowledged only when something was requ
