As soon as Scott left, a group of women approached me, Jessica at the center of them. My chest tightened as panic started to creep in, and I darted my eyes around the room, desperate for an escape.
One of the women crossed her arms, glaring at me with pure disdain.
“What are you looking around for? Do you even know what you’re seeing?” she sneered. “Honestly, I have no idea what Scott was thinking, bringing you here. People like you belong in a mental hospital. What if you lose it and start attacking someone?”
Her words hit me like a slap across the face. My hands instinctively clutched the hem of my dress, as if it could shield me from their cruel remarks.
"I… I’m not mentally ill," I stammered, my voice trembling. "Grandpa always said I’m just not smart, not sick. What are you doing right now? Are you trying to bully me?"
That only made them laugh louder, their mockery echoing in the room.
“Not smart? So you're just saying she’s a fool in a nicer way?” one woman mocked.
“Guess the gossip was spot on,” another interjected, smirking. “Scott’s wife really is stupid!”
“Look at her! She’s about to cry. This is hilarious!”