Chapter 2

As I set her books down, something slipped out of her desk compartment.

It was a sanitary pad.

I sighed, thinking Chloe had been careless. But when I looked closer, it wasn't the organic brand I always bought her. It looked cheap, rough, and used.

I picked it up. The wrapper was torn open, reeking of burning, pungent eucalyptus oil.

A chill ran down my spine. Someone was bullying my daughter. Who could be this cruel?

I slammed my hand onto the desk, trembling with rage.

I shoved the tainted pad into my bag, ready to march straight to the principal's office.

Suddenly, a stack of items spilled out from under her desk shelf.

When I saw what was on the floor, my blood ran ice-cold.

Unwrapped condoms. Obscene, graphic doodles. And dozens of crumpled notes covered in vile slurs.

"Only sluts get bad period cramps. Which one are you?"

"I left you a rubber. Want to be my girlfriend now?"

"Stop playing the fragile victim just to get the boys to look at you."

"I heard having a baby cures cramps. Want me to do you a favor and fix you up?"

Out of the pile, those were the mildest ones.

Shaking with fury, I photographed every single note, packed them into evidence bags, and tossed the trash away.

Only Ms. Miller knew the reason for Chloe's sick leave.

I stormed into the faculty lounge, my chest heaving.

Through the cracked door, a smug voice drifted out:

"I can't stand girls like that. Just like her mother—always playing the victim."

"Can't come to school over some mild cramps? I get my period every month, and you don't see me dropping dead, do you?"

Fire surged through my veins. I kicked the door wide open.

"Ms. Miller, every woman's body is different. Just because you don't suffer doesn't mean others don't."

"If you spread one more rumor about my daughter, I will see you in court."

She looked up in surprise, but the shock quickly turned into a sneer.

"Oh, Mrs. Vance! Look who decided to show up. I thought you were paralyzed in bed with your little cramps."

Ignoring her mockery, I dumped the notes and condoms directly onto her desk.

"Doesn't this school have strict zero-tolerance policies against bullying?"

Her expression tightened slightly. She picked up one of the notes with the tip of her fingernail.

"'Slut'... well, yes, that does sound a bit harsh."

I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Maybe she wasn't completely lost to reason.

Then she smirked. "Having a slut in our classroom is definitely bullying everyone else's noses."

"What did you say?" I couldn't believe my ears. A licensed educator said that?

"What? Did I lie? Maybe she should reflect on her own behavior first. It takes two to tango."

She was actually victim-blaming a seventeen-year-old girl.

SLAP!

My hand struck her across the face with everything I had.

"Did that take two to tango?" I hissed.

She clutched her red, swollen cheek, staring at me in sheer shock. "You hit me?! You're dead! Your daughter is never graduating from this school!"

"Oh, really?" I pulled back my arm and slapped the other side of her face.

"The first slap was from a mother. The second was from a woman."

"As an educator, you have no ethics. As a woman, you show nothing but malice toward your own kind."

"My daughter won't be staying in your toxic classroom anyway. A teacher like you could never raise decent human beings."

Suddenly, shouting erupted from the sports field outside the window.

Ms. Miller touched her bruised cheeks and grinned wickedly.

Dread seized my chest. I glanced out the window—and saw Chloe running around the track.

I sprinted for the door, but Ms. Miller deliberately blocked my path.

"I'm helping her," she laughed. "A little exercise gets rid of period pain in no time!"

"Get out of my way!"

My eyes flared red as I shoved her aside. Chloe's cycle wasn't over. Vigorous exertion under severe cramping could cause a ruptured corpus luteum.