Then came graduation night. When Lena’s name was called as Valedictorian, there was a brief, polite applause. She slowly walked up to the stage, her hands trembling as she held the microphone. “For twelve years,” she began, her voice soft but steady, “I was known as the Garbage Girl. And yes, my mother, who is sitting right there, collects trash for a living.”

The room fell silent. In the back row, Maria sat with her head slightly bowed, tears forming in her weary eyes, unsure of what her daughter would say next in front of all those who had once mocked her.