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That afternoon, I tried to ignore it and just told myself to stay calm and respect her space like I always do. But then curiosity whispered, What if? What if something’s going on? What if I’m being naive? Before I knew it, I caught myself tiptoeing down the hallway. And just as I stood in front of the room, I pushed the door open just a crack.
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Soft music was playing in the background, and there they were, cross-legged on the rug, surrounded by notebooks, highlighters, and math problems. She was explaining something, so concentrated that she barely spotted someone entering the room. Her boyfriend was nodding, completely focused on my daughter’s math explanations. The plate of cookies she took to the room was at her desk, untouched.
She looked up and smiled, a little confused. “Mom? Do you need something?”
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“Oh, I just wanted to see if you wanted more cookies.”
“We’re good, thanks!” she said, and turned to what she was doing.
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I closed the door and leaned against the wall, half embarrassed and half relieved.
It was then that I realized how often parents imagine the worst when the truth is beautifully simple. There was no secret, just two kids helping each other learn.
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