"Sorry, Ophelia. I'm—I'm sorry," I mumbled an apology once again, my words a quiet admission of my distracted state.

As Ophelia turned to make her exit, a brief pause in her movements hinted that she might not be finished addressing my perceived lapse in attention. The air hung with anticipation, awaiting the next wave of scolding or guidance that would dictate the course of the day.

"Hailey, follow me," she urged again, impatience resonating in her voice. Inhaling deeply, I braced myself, ...