The first few days passed quietly. I showed Emily how to use pads, how to track her cycle, how to handle cramps with hot water bottles and gentle walks. She was nervous, embarrassed — but also a little proud. She was stepping into something new, and I wanted her to feel empowered, not ashamed.
“Claire, can we talk about what’s in the bathroom trash?”
His tone was sharp — not angry, but disapproving.
I followed his gaze to the small wastebasket near the sink. Inside, wrapped neatly, was a used pad. Emily had done exactly what she was supposed to.
“What about it?” I asked, already bracing myself.
He looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. “The boys saw it. They were… disturbed. They said it was disgusting.”
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