Truth Isn't Always Kind

Mr. Smith didn’t even say a word when I stepped into his office. But my feet froze the moment I saw my mother.

Sitting stiffly in one of the chairs, her lips pressed into a thin line, and her bag resting neatly on her lap like she was clinging to the last piece of her pride. My breath caught in my throat.

What was she doing here?

Mr. Smith finally spoke, breaking the silence like a knife through soft bread.

"Olivia, your mother has been called in concerning the letter you submitted yesterday," he said, folding his hands on the desk. "We want to hear directly from you.Was everything in that letter true?"

The air in the room suddenly felt thick, like someone had poured silence into the corners and sealed it tight. I glanced at my mum. Her face was a calm mask, but her eyes… They were restless,cold and just still.

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Her expression shifted just slightly. I wouldn't call it anger or shock. It was just a quiet, almost scary blend of disappointment and distrust. The kind of look that stays with you long after a heated conversation ends.

“Very well,” Mr. Smith said after a pause. He opened a drawer, pulled out a letter, and handed it to me. “This is a suspension notice. One week. It starts after school today. You may return next week. I hope you reflect on your actions.”

I stared at the paper in my hand, but the words didn’t register.

My mum rose to her feet, still quiet. She didn’t speak to Mr. Smith, and didn’t even look at me. As she reached the door, she turned slightly, her eyes softened a little.

“See you at home,” she said, her voice distant, like I was someone she used to know.

Then she went home.

I stood there for a second, then another, before forcing myself to walk out. My legs were suddenly too aware of the floor beneath me. Each step back to class felt like a climb.

When I opened the door to the classroom, Lola had already stood up halfway.

“Oli, what happened—”

But I didn’t stop to answer. I didn’t even glance in her direction. I walked straight to the back, picked my bag, and headed out again,but this time, to find Sara.

She was at her locker when I stepped outside and called, “Sara.”

She turned, her brows raised slightly. “Hey,what's going on?”

“Can we talk?” I cut in.

She followed me a few steps down the hallway, somewhere between the science lab and the water taps. The area was quiet enough.

I faced her, the words were already burning inside me.

“Sara… I was the one that did it.”

She blinked. “Did what?”

“I took the money,” I said, slower this time. “And I told people you did.”

There was silence. The kind that echoed in your chest and made you wish the ground would open up and take you somewhere else.

Her brows pinched in, then lifted in disbelief.

“You did what?”

I didn’t repeat it. I just stood there, letting her piece it together. Her face slowly crumpled not in anger, but maybe something heavier.

I could tell she was disappointed in me.

I looked away.

“I’m sorry,I know it won't fix what I already did” I muttered, It was already too late.

She shook her head and leaned against the wall. For a moment, she said nothing. Then softly:

“You see, Olivia, I understand you. The first day I came into this school, I was scarred and afraid that I couldn’t fit in. But you showed me around. Your friends welcomed me and treated me just like they treated everyone else.”

I looked up.

She went on, her voice was fragile but firm. “You were used to being in the spotlight, I guess. And then suddenly, I came, attention shifted to me and you started drifting with your friends.”

“You don’t have to sound like that,” I interrupted, my voice sharper than intended. “They’re your friends now.”

Her lips curled into a sad smile. “Maybe. But you’re still you, Olivia. And you’re… perfect.”

I flinched a bit . “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

She chuckled softly. “A compliment. Because you told the truth. That makes you different. That makes you… better than most people..”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I just nodded with my throat tight.

“And don’t worry,” she added. “Things will return to normal. Maybe not now, but eventually.”

We walked back to the classroom. Everything looked the same, but nothing felt the same.

I stepped in with my eyes catching Andrew’s first. He looked like he wanted to speak, but the words didn’t form. His mouth just stayed slightly open.

Lola was the same too. She was silent, confused, stuck somewhere between worry and shock.

No one said a word as I picked up the rest of my things on my desk.

Then I left.

And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like Olivia, the bright girl, the leader, the one everyone admired.

I just felt… human.