You shared a five-year-old son with your husband, Maxwell, and his name was Nathaniel. Today, you had come to his school to pick him up. It wasn’t just any school—it was the most prestigious kindergarten in the country, a place where everything seemed polished and perfect.

You parked your car and stepped out, the sharp click of your heels echoing against the pavement as you walked toward the designated pick-up area. The air was alive with the chatter of other parents and teachers, but you could feel their glances—the subtle weight of their attention as they watched you.

Nathaniel’s face lit up the moment he saw you. “Mommy!” he called out, his voice full of excitement as he broke into a run toward you.

But before he reached you, he suddenly stumbled. His little legs gave way, and he tripped, landing hard on his knees. The joyful sound of his voice was replaced by silence as he stayed still, the shock of the fall written across his face.