“They Didn’t Know Who My Father Was”
The hallway always smelled the same—industrial cleaner, leftover pizza grease, and cheap body spray layered into a nausea-inducing fog. I hugged my history book tight against my chest and stared at the floor, counting the tiles as I walked. One. Two. Three.Breathe.Just reach third period. I knew the rules by heart. Don’t look up. Don’t…