"Hi... I'm Ms. Rose. Theo's teacher," I managed at last.
Ivy's lips parted. "I... I know who you are. Owen's mom..."
Theo, oblivious, tugged her sleeve. "Mom, can we get nuggets?"
Ivy forced a smile, eyes never leaving mine. "Yeah, baby. Just... give me a second."
Other parents lingered, watching. They were always alert to meet the new parents of the class.
One mom, Tracy, tilted her head. "Wait… Ivy? Gloria's daughter? From West Ridge?"
"I... I know who you are."
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Ivy's shoulders stiffened. A couple of heads turned.
And then Tracy's eyes flicked to me. "Oh my gosh… you're Owen's mom, aren't you?"
Ms. Moreno stepped closer, reading the room. I could already see the headline version of me forming in their faces: grieving teacher, unstable, inappropriate.
"Ms. Rose, are you alright?" she asked gently.
"Yes, just allergies," I replied too quickly.
"Ms. Rose, are you alright?"
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Ivy looked at the ground for a moment before speaking.
"Can we talk somewhere private?"
Ms. Moreno, the principal, nodded and led us to her office, closing the door behind us. We sat, the air thick with things unsaid. Ivy stared at her hands.
"I need to ask you something," I said first. "And I need the truth, Ivy. Is Theo... Is he my grandson?"
Ivy looked up, eyes bright with tears she tried not to shed. "Yes."
"Is he my grandson?"
