After almost forty-five minutes, narating ko na rin ang eskwelahan. Nagtanong-tanong ako kung nasaan ang guidance office. Makalipas ang ilang minutong lakad at takbo, narating ko na rin ang opisina.
I knocked three times before my child’s teacher opened it for me. I smiled at her apologetically.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
Ngumiti rin siya sa akin. “It’s okay, Miss Fortalejo. Pasok po kayo.”
I nodded and entered the room.
“Say ‘sorry’, young man. Mali ang ginawa mo. That’s all we ask from you.”
Dumako ang mga mata ko sa isang babae at lalaki, probably a couple, na nasa harap ng guidance counselor. Nasa gitna nila ang isang batang lalaki. Sa kabilang panig naman ay ang anak ko, nag-iisa. Nakaupo siya at yukong-yuko. He was fiddling with his fingers. His cheeks were red and he seemed like he cr
