I walked down from the podium after the valedictory address avoiding Ugo’s eyes.
I knew they were watching me.
I knew they watched amid the proud handshakes, hurrahs and nods of approval.
His gaze alone saw the truth of my ambition, that desire to wipe out my existence.
He saw it in between the jokes and the pauses in my childish laughter.
He saw the lingering pain in the eyes of a portrait skilled at dissembling.
“You will never know me,” it seemed to say.
But I knew what his defying response was: ‘I see you. I know you