Chapter 11

Months slipped into years like pages fluttering in the wind. The small city that had once been the beginning of Victoria’s healing now stood as the backdrop of a new dawn — Katrina’s.

The little girl who once clutched a broken doll beneath the almond tree had grown into a graceful young woman of twenty-one, full of life, brilliance, and quiet strength.

Victoria often stood by the window of her bakery, watching her daughter walk down the street each morning — tall, confident, and radiant, the wind tugging gently at her long dark hair.

Katrina was everything she had prayed for and more — disciplined, intelligent, and kind to everyone who crossed her path.

It felt like just yesterday that she had started her first day of school, holding onto Victoria’s hand with nervous eyes. And now, she was preparing to leave for university — stepping into a world far beyond the reach of their little city.

Her acceptance letter had arrived two months earlier, neatly folded inside an envelope that bore the golden seal of The National University of Sciences. She had scored among the highest in St. Bridges College — not just in her city, but in the entire district.

Her name had been written on the school’s notice board under Outstanding Students of the Year. The principal had called her “a mind touched by numbers, and a heart built by love.”

Katrina smiled when she read it, but Victoria cried — quietly, proudly.

Mathematics was her passion. From childhood, numbers danced in her mind like poetry. While others struggled with equations, Katrina solved them as though she were composing music — graceful and precise.

She wanted to study mathematics at the university level, to chase something deeper than just grades — she wanted to understand the language of the universe.

But the university was far — several cities away — and no one else in their area had ever gone there to study mathematics.

Still, Victoria did not let her fear show. She spent days preparing everything for her daughter’s journey. She bought new clothes, a small silver watch, notebooks, and a sturdy trunk to hold them all.

Each item was chosen with care, folded and packed with quiet love. She even baked a batch of Katrina’s favorite cookies — honey-butter shortcakes — and sealed them in a tin box with a small note inside: “For when you miss home.”

The night before the journey, their small home was filled with the smell of baked bread and soft laughter.

Katrina sat on her bed, surrounded by her luggage — all ten of them — while Victoria folded her last set of clothes.

“Mom,” Katrina said with a half-laugh, half-grumble, “I feel like I’m moving the whole house.”

Victoria smiled gently. “You can’t be too careful, my love. You’ll be gone for months, and I don’t want you to lack anything.”

Katrina sighed, hugging her pillow. “You’re treating me like a child again.”

“You’ll always be my child,” Victoria said softly. “Even when you’re fifty.”

Katrina giggled. “That’s old!”

“Then I’ll be older,” Victoria replied with a playful shrug.

But later that night, when the lights were off and the house was quiet, Victoria sat beside her daughter’s bed and watched her sleep — her lashes resting on her cheeks, her face calm.

She reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her forehead.

“My sunshine,” she whispered, her heart tightening. “Go and find your wings.”

⸻

The morning of departure arrived bright and heavy with emotion.

The cab was already parked outside, engine humming. The driver waited patiently as neighbors gathered to wave goodbye.

Inside the cab, two familiar faces were waiting — Anita and Fave, Katrina’s closest friends since childhood.

When they saw her stepping out of the house, dragging three big suitcases behind her and balancing two smaller ones, their jaws dropped.

Anita, ever the joker, burst into laughter. “Kiki, are you going to stay at the university for the rest of your life?”

Katrina rolled her eyes, smiling. “It’s not that much.”

“Not that much?” Anita exclaimed dramatically. “Girl, your luggage looks like you’re starting a new civilization!”

Fave laughed from the backseat. “Please, Kiki, enter the cab. We’re late already — registration closes at noon.”

Victoria came out behind her, helping the driver load the remaining bags. Her heart ached at every clink of the metal trunk, every zip that sealed another piece of her daughter’s life away from her.

When everything was packed, she stood by the car door and held Katrina close for a long moment.

“Be careful, my love,” she whispered. “Don’t skip meals. Study hard. And remember, I’m only a call away.”

Katrina’s eyes shimmered. “I will, Mom. I promise.”

Victoria kissed her forehead, the same way she had every morning since she was four. “Go and be great, my child.”

“Bye, Mom,” Katrina said softly.

As the cab drove away, Victoria waved until it disappeared at the end of the street. Then she stood still, her heart both full and breaking.

⸻

The journey was long but lively. Anita and Fave made jokes all through the drive, teasing Katrina about how the driver probably needed a second car just for her luggage.

Katrina laughed until tears came out of her eyes. “You two will never change.”

They arrived at the university gates just past noon. The sprawling campus looked like a small city on its own — wide lawns, towering buildings, and students bustling around with fresh excitement.

The sun shimmered off the glass walls of the main auditorium, and the air smelled of new beginnings.

“This place is huge,” Fave whispered, eyes wide.

Katrina nodded, a mix of awe and nervousness washing over her. “It’s beautiful.”

After registration, they were led to their dormitory — a long cream building lined with flowerbeds and shaded by old trees.

Their room was small but cozy, with three beds neatly arranged and a large window overlooking the campus garden.

Katrina unpacked her things slowly, arranging her books, blankets, and photos of her mother by the bedside.

Anita laughed again when she saw the tin box of cookies. “Kiki, your mom really loves you. Look at this — cookies, notes, and even a mini sewing kit!”

Katrina smiled shyly, touching the tin. “She does everything with love.”

When night came, she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning softly. The hum reminded her of home.

She missed her mother already — the smell of bread, the warmth of their small room, the way Victoria would say “Good night, my sunshine.”

But she also felt something new — a strange excitement burning quietly in her chest.

This was the beginning of her journey.

⸻

Days rolled into weeks. The campus came alive with laughter, lectures, and late-night study sessions.

Katrina quickly became one of the most respected students in her department. Her professors were amazed at her discipline and brilliance.

In every mathematics class, she was always the first to raise her hand, the first to solve a problem.

Her handwriting was precise, her logic clear, her passion unmistakable.

She found joy in numbers — they calmed her, challenged her, and gave her purpose.

One of her lecturers, Professor Daniel, once said to her, “You don’t just solve equations, Miss Victoria. You understand them like you’ve lived them.”

She smiled modestly. “Numbers make sense, sir. People don’t always do.”

And he laughed, nodding in agreement.

By the end of her first semester, Katrina was top of her class. Her results were displayed on the school’s digital board: Katrina Victoria Jouls — First-Class Honors, Mathematics Department.

When she called her mother to tell her, Victoria cried again.

“My baby,” she said through tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

Katrina laughed softly through the phone. “Mom, don’t cry. I’m doing this for us.”

But even as she excelled, Katrina stayed humble. She made time to help classmates who struggled, tutoring them in the evenings in exchange for nothing more than friendship and laughter.

Her dorm became a small study hub — filled with whiteboards, markers, and the sound of scribbling pencils.

Even Anita, who once hated math, started to pass because of her.

“Honestly, Kiki,” she would say, “you make this thing look too easy.”

Katrina would laugh and reply, “Math is like baking. Follow the steps carefully, and you’ll get the right result.”

The second semester came and went in a blur of assignments, projects, and exams.

Katrina’s dedication never wavered. While others went to parties, she spent her nights at the library or sitting by her dorm window, revising under the soft glow of her desk lamp.

She missed home deeply — especially her mother’s warmth — but she found comfort in the thought that every good grade she earned was a gift back to her.

Sometimes, she would open the tin box of cookies — now empty — and read the note her mother had left inside.

“For when you miss home.”

The handwriting was simple, yet every curve of the letters carried love.

She would smile and whisper, “I’ll make you proud, Mom.”

And as the stars blinked faintly beyond her window, Katrina felt her heart swell — full of gratitude, full of dreams, full of the quiet promise that had started long ago in a little house on a quiet street.

She didn’t know what fate had waiting for her in this new chapter, but one thing was certain — she carried her mother’s love, her strength, and her name like armor.

And that was enough to conquer the world.