I’m Yours, Mr. Blackwood
Mark said, unlocking the door for us.
"Alright," I said, unbuckling Ava.
The moment her shoes touched the ground, Ava grabbed two of my fingers.
"Mama see, Mama, see!" She squealed as she pointed toward the colorful playground, barely able to contain her excitement.
"Slow down, tiny feet," I laughed, walking up the front steps with her.
Inside, the academy was bright and spacious. Soft-carpeted rooms were filled with foam climbing blocks, sensory bins, and tiny wooden tables.
A tall, formally dressed woman who looked like she was in her late thirties stepped out from one of the offices to meet us. She had observant eyes and a perfectly practiced smile.