CHAPTER 16-A MORNING LIKE ANY OTHER

Anna's pov

I was already dressed when I opened Amyra’s door.

“Time to get up, baby”, I said as I entered Amyra's room. She lay curled on her side,one arm under the pillow,and the other resting lightly over her chest. I sat on the edge of the mattress and brushed a curl from her forehead.

Her eyes opened slowly. She blinked, then stretched both arms until her small fists trembled in the air. I waited until she sat up before guiding her toward the bathroom.

The water ran warm. I helped her out of her sleep shirt and into the tub, washing her hair carefully so the soap would not sting her eyes. She hummed the days-of-the-week song under her breath while I rinsed the last of the shampoo. When I lifted her out and wrapped the towel around her shoulders, she leaned against me for a moment, still half-asleep, before I dried her off and reached for the yellow dress with the stars along the hem.

She stood still while I buttoned the back, then turned in a slow circle so the skirt would flare. I combed her hair, separating the damp curls with my fingers.

“What did you learn yesterday?” I asked.

Amyra thought for a second, lips pressed together. “Teacher showed us counting by twos and we sang the song again. I already knew it. Maya kept saying ‘Wensday’ wrong.” She giggled, then grew serious. “Is Maya coming today? She said her throat hurt.”

“I don’t know. We’ll see when we get there.” I smoothed the last curl into place. “Did you put your homework folder in the bag last night?”

She froze. “I forgot.”

I pointed to the small desk. She ran over, grabbed the folder, and held it up. I checked the bag myself, water bottle, snack box, extra hair tie, and the folder. Everything was there. I zipped it closed and set it by the door.

In the kitchen I poured her milk and set a plate of toast and sliced banana in front of her. She climbed onto the chair and swung her legs while she ate. I stood at the counter with my coffee, already calculating the minutes left before we needed to be on the bus.

“How is Teacher Lin?” I asked.

Amyra swallowed a mouthful of banana. “She’s nice. She liked my drawing of the quiet room. She said the blue walls were a good idea. Can I finish the roof garden today? The blue crayon broke yesterday.”

“If you finish your classwork first.”

She nodded, then looked up at me with sudden interest. “Mommy, are the buildings still going well? The ones you’re making at the glass place?”

I set the cup down. My fingers stayed wrapped around it a second longer than necessary.

“They’re going, slowly. But they’re going.”

Amyra’s eyes brightened. “Don’t forget the rainbow windows. You promised.”

“I remember. You concentrate on school. The buildings will still be there when you’re ready.”

She considered this, then smiled and returned to her toast.

I wiped the crumbs from her mouth, helped her into her shoes, and checked the time again. We were already behind.

At the school gate Amyra hugged my waist tightly. I crouched so we were level and smoothed her collar once more.

“Be good. Listen to Teacher Lin. I’ll pick you up later.”

“I will. Build something pretty today.”

I kissed the top of her head and watched her walk through the entrance with the other children before I turned to leave.

“Ms. Li?”

The voice stopped me mid-step. I turned, surprised. Teacher Lin stood a few paces away, a folder held against her chest. Her expression was careful, almost hesitant.

“Could I speak with you for a moment about Amyra?”

My stomach tightened. I glanced at my phone. The numbers were already later than I had planned. The company’s rules sat heavy in the front of my mind, “arrive on time, no exceptions, no excuses”.

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words coming faster than I intended. “I have to get to work. Can I call you later today, or come by after I finish?”

Teacher Lin’s grip on the folder shifted. She nodded, though the careful look did not leave her face. “Of course. It’s nothing that can’t wait until then. Please call when you can.”

I thanked her and walked away quickly. Once past the gate my steps lengthened. The residual weight of her expression stayed with me, the sense that whatever she needed to say was not small. My chest felt tight. I forced my breathing to stay even and kept moving.

On the bus I checked the time again. Later than expected. My fingers tightened around the phone until the edge pressed white against my skin. I forced them open and stared at the passing streets, counting the remaining minutes, the teacher’s unfinished request sitting unresolved in the back of my mind alongside the clock.