Years after he humiliated me in front of our entire class, my former bully came to me for help. He needed a loan, and I was the only person who could decide his fate.
I still remember the smell that day, even 20 years later.
It was industrial wood glue mixed with burnt hair under fluorescent lights.
It was sophomore chemistry. I was 16 years old, quiet, serious, and desperate to blend into the back row.
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