When my brother announced his engagement, I was thrilled, until he told me he was marrying the girl who made my childhood miserable. She thought the past was forgotten, but I had the perfect wedding gift to remind her that some scars don’t fade.I was eight years old when I first learned that some monsters don’t live under the bed. They sit behind you in class, whispering just loud enough for you to hear.Nancy wasn’t the kind of bully who pushed or hit. That would have been too obvious. She was smarter than that. She used words like a scalpel, cutting deep but never leaving a mark anyone else could see.

Teachers thought she was an angel. My parents? They told me to ignore her. But ignoring Nancy was like trying to ignore a mosquito buzzing in your ear. She never stopped.By high school, I had perfected the art of being invisible. I ate lunch alone. I kept my head down. I counted the days until graduation like a prisoner marking time on a cell wall.Then I left. I moved two states away for college, built a career, and made a life where Nancy didn’t exist. For years, I barely thought about her.Until my brother called.”Guess what?” His voice was bright, excited. “I’m engaged!”