Her smile is bright and engaging, even though inside she is fuming.
She is kind and courteous, even though inside she's screaming.
She laughs, she shakes hands, and she smiles until her cheeks hurt. Even though, inside, she wants to cry.
There are expectations in place; a role she must play. Her feelings are not hers to display or share or even feel.
Not here, anyway. It has to stay bottled until she can be home, curled in bed hugging a pillow until the tears can fall freely.
Then, the next day, do it all over again: Lather, rinse, repeat.