Chapter 10: Kindness and Control

In the end, I was the one who propped myself up and slowly climbed to my feet.

Each movement felt impossible, but I made it. No one cheered. No one cared. But I did it.

At the entrance, people were still talking about me. I didn't have the courage to look back. Stubbornly, I walked farther away to the security office, borrowed the guard's phone, and called in sick so I could go to the hospital.

The guard—Mr. Rivas—was kind. He handed me the phone and offered a tissue, glancing away so I could wipe my face in private. He also pressed a cold Gatorade and a granola bar into my hands, the kind of small-town kindness that stings a little when you need it most.

One blow after another.

My knee throbbed, but the hurt in my chest was worse. It felt like there was no safe place left in the world.

After Grandma Carol found out I'd dislocated my kneecap, she became convinced it was because I was too heavy and my knees couldn't take it. She started strictly controlling my diet, determined to help me lose weight for good.

She replaced all the bread in the house with rice cakes and measured my portions at every meal. I didn’t have the heart to argue anymore. I just chewed and swallowed and kept my mouth shut.

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