LOGINELIJAH'S POV:The morning was the set-up and informal viewing period where parents and other students could look at the displays. Andrew stood at his table and answered questions from people who wandered past with the confidence and precision of someone who had answered every version of these questions in his own head already and was not going to be thrown by them in the real world.A girl from another school stopped and read his methodology section carefully."Did you actually collect sleep data from your classmates?" she asked."With their consent and the school nurse's oversight, yes," Andrew said."How many participants?" she asked."Fourteen," he said. "Over three weeks. With a control period and an intervention period where participants received a standardized probiotic supplement for comparison."She stared at him. "How old are you again?""Eight," he said.She stared for another second and then walked away without saying anything else. Andrew watched her go and then looked at
ELIJAH'S POV:In the car on the way to the fair, Andrew was quiet for most of it, which I did not try to fill. He was looking out the window with the expression he had when he was running through things internally, not anxiously, just methodically, the way a pilot might run through a checklist not because they expect problems but because thoroughness is the habit that prevents them.About fifteen minutes in he said, "What if a judge asks me something I have not considered?""Then you tell them you have not considered it yet and you say what you think the answer might be based on what you know," I said. "And you tell them you would want to investigate further before committing to a conclusion."He thought about this. "That is what I told the judge this morning about the limitation of my dataset.""I know," I said. "And it was the right answer.""It felt risky," he said. "Acknowledging what I do not know.""The judges know what you do not know," I said. "Acknowledging it yourself is wha
HANNAH'S POV:The drama festival was held at the Meridian Arts Centre. The junior solo category was scheduled for early afternoon, which meant we arrived in the morning for warm-up and rehearsal space and Amelia disappeared into the backstage area with the other performers while I found a seat in the third row.Yeah i admit, I have a thing with third rows.The venue filled up. Parents, teachers, adjudicators in the front row with their clipboards and their specific quality of professional attention. The programme ran through the morning categories first and I watched other children perform and thought about what it took to stand on a stage and make people feel something.At one thirty the junior solo category was announced.There were six performers. Amelia was fourth.I watched the first three with genuine attention because they were good, all of them were good, the standard at this festival was notably high and I made a note of this because I wanted to be able to tell Amelia honestl
HANNAH'S POV: Getting Amelia ready was a different morning entirely. She had been awake before me, which I discovered when I came out of the bathroom already dressed and found her sitting at her little vanity doing her hair with a level of focus that I recognized from the stage. The bun first, then the two small twists at the front. The black shoes set out on the floor beside her chair. "You look beautiful," I said. "I know," she said. "I am going to do the ribbon last. Red or white?" "Red," I said. She considered this. "I was thinking red," she said. "Yes." I sat on the edge of her bed and watched her finish. The dress was simple, dark navy, something she had chosen herself from the three clothes I had ordered, because Amelia had opinions about what she performed in and those opinions were correct. The shoes had the strap she had specified. The red ribbon went in last, tied with the neat bow she could do herself now, which was a thing she had practiced until she got it right b
ELIJAH'S POV:The Saturday arrived the way big days always do, too fast and also like it had been coming for a very long time.I was up at five thirty and I made coffee and sat at the kitchen table and I thought about the day ahead. The science fair was forty minutes across the city at a regional exhibition centre. Andrew had already confirmed the departure time, the route, the parking situation, and the check-in procedure, and had communicated all of this to me in a concise summary message the night before with the subject line: Saturday logistics.He was eight years old.I had sent back: received and understood, well done, get some sleep. He had replied: I am going to sleep now. I wanted to make sure you had the information. Goodnight dad.I had sat with that message for a moment. This child who loved me in the language of information sharing and preparation.Hannah appeared at five fifty in her dressing gown, assessed the kitchen situation, poured herself tea, and sat across from m
HANNAH'S POV:She had chosen her piece within forty-eight hours of the letter arriving. It was an original monologue she had written herself, which I found out after she had already written the first draft and read it to me one evening sitting on the end of my bed, very upright, with the paper held in both hands.It was about a girl who discovers that her grandmother was a dancer before she was a wife or a mother or a grandmother, and who learns through finding an old photograph that the people who love us were once strangers to us, were once young and full of things we will never fully know.I sat on the edge of my bed and listened and by the end I was pressing my fingers to my lips and Amelia looked at me and said, "Is it too sad?""It is not sad at all," I said. "It is true. True things feel a certain way and you have written something true."She considered this seriously. "I was thinking about Grandma Mirada," she said. "When I wrote it. I was thinking about how we only know her f
HANNAH’S POV:Amelia gasped dramatically. “PANCAKES?!”“Pancakes, fruit, and everything you like.” I announced as I recalled there was a private chef who we could snap our fingers and everything we desired would be served in a blink of an eyexAmelia cheered and jumped up, accidentally dipping her
HANNAH’S POV:THAT SAME NIGHT:I wasn’t sure how long I was in the elevator as I had shut my eyes tight but I opened my eyes when I felt the elevator move and the light came on. Tears rolled down my cheeks when the door opened and Elijah was standing there with three security behind him officers.
HANNAH’S POV:A WEEK LATER:Today was a beautiful day and I felt it was going to be a just beautiful as the sunrise. I joined the kids and Elijah for breakfast where we drank orange juice, with pancakes and syrup and we shared the grace today. Although my driver was around and well, Elijah offered
HANNAH’S POV:I took a few minutes to send some follow-up emails, sign digital approvals, and rewrite a budget line that didn’t sit right with me. By the time I looked up, the sun outside had begun its lazy descent.The office floors were mostly quiet. Except for the hum of air conditioning and fai







