The table froze. Melissa’s mother called her a brat. Lily replied, “I learned it from you.” We walked out, heads high. Melissa followed us, demanding Lily apologize. “She was joking,” she said. I told her, “Jokes are supposed to be funny.” Later, Melissa called and blamed Lily for “ruining everything.” I said, “If you can’t stand up for my daughter, there’s no future here,” and hung up.

That night, I saw Lily asleep, moonlight on her scar, and I knew: she wasn’t hiding anymore. And I wouldn’t let anyone make her feel like she should.