Watching ZeeZee’s face crumple, Chava’s anger melted. ZeeZee had meant well. She’d just made her decisions from the perspective of an 18-year-old

The doorbell rang. Chava straightened her skirt before going to answer it. She’d made an excuse when ZeeZee had asked to come by, but ZeeZee had begged, and she’d relented.

“Hi, Mrs. Edelman.”

ZeeZee looked just as uneasy as Chava felt. After taking the drink that Chava offered her, she took a breath and blurted, “I came here to say two things: I’m sorry. And… I miss you.”

Chava felt her face grow warm. “I’m touched, ZeeZee. I miss you, too.”

ZeeZee was watching her anxiously. “Then, why’d you leave? Was it— She cleared her throat. “Was it because of… you know? The campaign for your daughter?” She leaned forward. “Please tell me. Was it my fault?”

Watching ZeeZee’s face crumple, Chava’s anger melted. ZeeZee had meant well. She’d just made her decisions from the perspective of an 18-year-old.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Chava said. “I’ll admit, the campaign was the straw that broke the camel’s back, but this decision was a long time in coming.”

ZeeZee stared “But, why? You’re the best teacher we have!”

Something inside Chava twisted. “That’s nice of you to say, but you have a lot of wonderful teachers. Teachers who—” She looked down at her lap “—have an easier time understanding your generation.”

ZeeZee jumped up. “How can you say that? That’s so not true!” She took an agitated step toward Chava. “You’re the only one in the entire school who understands me! Maybe in the entire world!”

If she weren’t so overcome with emotion, Chava might have laughed at the teenage hyperbole. She waited to get her voice under control before saying, “I’m so glad you feel that way. That means… a lot to me.”