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Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she wore no staff badge.
Her face was stern — harsh even.
He turned his head and cried silently, tears falling freely, but she didn’t stop!
“You’re not leaving until that plate is empty,” she scolded.
That was it. I pushed the door open so hard it slammed into the wall! A couple of staff members jumped.
“Ma’am!
You can’t be in here —”
“I don’t care!” I marched across the room, heart racing, fists clenched.
When Johnny saw me, he gasped. His tiny body shook with relief as I pulled him into my arms.
“If you ever force my child to eat again, I’ll take this to the state,” I said, turning to the woman.
“Policy?” I repeated, my voice rising.
“Force-feeding kids until they cry isn’t a policy. It’s abuse!”
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