I realize I’m holding my breath, and exhale. Whatever the letter says, I’ve done everything possible to defend myself. I offer a quick prayer for strength. “Mrs. Wilson, please, what does the letter say?”
I feel elated and distraught at the same time. Elated that I’m not dismissed. Distraught because I haven’t prevailed. I put the letter in my pocket and walk outside. Flora and Catriona sit sewing in the sun. They wave at me. I burst into tears.
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