my eighteenth birthday, something happened that changed everything.
I was working a part-time job at a small grocery store after school. It wasn’t glamorous, but I enjoyed earning my own money. That afternoon, I was restocking cereal boxes when I noticed someone standing at the opposite end of the aisle.
It was a woman.
She wasn’t shopping.
She was simply staring at me.
At first, I barely paid attention. Then I recognized her face.
My heart skipped.
I had seen her countless times before.
She was Mrs. Jenkins, the cleaning
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