The morning started like most others-late.
Amara juggled a half-toasted bagel in one hand and her daughter's backpack in the other,as six-year-old Lily danced around the kitchen in unmatched socks and a tiara.The bus would be there in eight minutes.Amara knew this because the microwave clock had been her personal drill sergeant since Lily started school.
"Mummy,why can't I wear my princess dress to school?" Lily's voice was hopeful,her face already flush with expectation.
"Because even princesses have to follow the dress code,"Amara said,kneeling down to smooth her daughter's curly hair.
"But Cinderella—"
"—didn't have math class at 10:00am.,"Amara replied,zipping up the backpack.
There were days Amara felt like two people:one surviving,one performing.The brave face she wore for Lily masked the loneliness that crept in each night after bedtime stories and whispered prayers.It had been almost three years since Malik left.No letter.No explanation.Just Silence.
The town of marigold Ridge,with its sleepy streets and friendly lies,had given her a fresh start.But healing?that was slower.As Lily boarded the school bus and waved through the dusty window,Amara stood still on the porch,the sun catching in her tired eyes.Today would be like any other— unless fate had something else in store.
And it did.