Her father, polite but firm, leaned toward me. “Would you mind switching seats so my daughter can look outside?”
It was said kindly, but the tone carried an expectation, the kind that leaves you feeling like the only acceptable answer is yes.
His expression shifted—just slightly, but enough to sting. He nodded stiffly, settled in, and under his breath, I heard him mutter, “Some adults never learn to grow up.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
The Sting of Judgment
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