In the days that followed, I overheard bits and pieces of the gossip and speculations of the locals. It was as though Yeti himself had been spotted. It was truly disheartening. After all, some of these same people had brought comfort, kind words, and casseroles into my home when my mom was dying. I was disappointed. The girl with the veil was no different than I, or any of the other townsfolk. She has dreams and feelings and beliefs and aspirations. She bleeds when cut just like you and I. But I was forever changed just by only briefly experiencing what she has no choice but to contend with. That, for me, was the sad part—that I could experience such prejudice by literally walking in her shoes. And it didn’t take a mile.