Over the following weeks, he engineered “accidental” encounters. Walking by our house after practice. “Losing” a ball in our yard. Each time, he’d speak to her—not as the snarling predator I knew, but as a wounded puppy. He told her his parents were divorcing. He said his grades were slipping. He called her “the only adult who actually listens.”
Yuna’s eyes softened. “Everyone deserves to be seen.” my bully tries to corrupt my mother yuna
That night, Yuna and I planted new irises. She didn’t apologize—she didn’t have to. She just said, “Next time, show me the scar sooner.” Over the following weeks
Yuna, ever gracious, wiped her hands on her apron and smiled. “Oh? Well, anyone can learn. It just takes patience.” show me the scar sooner.” Yuna