Chapter One: The Good Daughter
“Amara!”
She stopped halfway down the stairs.
“Yes, Mum?”
“Come and taste this soup.”
Amara looked at the clock.
6:43 p.m.
Her bus was leaving at seven.
“Mum, I have to go.”
“Just taste it first.”
She walked into the kitchen.
Her mother stood over a steaming pot, holding a wooden spoon.
“Open your mouth.”
“Mum…”
“Amara.”
She laughed and opened her mouth.
Her mother put a little soup on the spoon and held it out.
“Too much pepper?”
“No. It's perfect.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
Her mother smiled.
“Take some home.”
“I will.”
“And don't forget to call me when you get there.”
“I won't.”
Amara turned to leave.
“Wait.”
She turned.
“You're coming back next weekend?”
Amara hesitated.
“I don't know yet.”
Her mother's smile disappeared.
“Why?”
“I have an assignment.”
“Again?”
“It's a group assignment this time.”
“You can't do it from home?”
“I can, but—”
“Amara.”
“Yes?”
“You've been saying school is keeping you busy since you resumed.”
“I know, Mum. It's not like I'm trying to avoid coming home. It's just that—”
“Forget it.”
Her mother turned back to the pot.
Amara stood there.
“Mum.”
“Go before you miss your bus.”
“I wasn't trying to"
“Amara, go.”
She picked up her bag.
“Okay.”
She walked out.
Three steps from the door, she stopped.
She turned around.
“Mum?”
No answer.
“I really will come next weekend.”
Her mother didn't turn around.
“Okay.”
Amara left.
The bus was already filling up when she arrived at the park.
She climbed in, found an empty seat beside the window, and dropped her bag on her lap.
Her phone vibrated.
Mum: Have you entered the bus?
Amara smiled.
Amara: Yes.
Another message came.
Mum: Good. Call me when you get there.
Amara: Okay ❤️
She locked her phone.
Then unlocked it again.
She typed:
I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to make it seem like I don't want to come home.
She stared at the message.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
I promise I'll come next weekend.
She deleted that too.
The bus began to move.
Amara leaned her head against the window.
“Why am I like this?” she whispered.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time, it was Tessa.
Tessa: We're going out tonight. You're coming.
Amara smiled.
Amara: I have an assignment.
The reply came almost immediately.
Tessa: You always have an assignment.
Amara frowned.
She typed:
That's not fair. I really have one. And I just got back from home, so I'm tired. It's not that I don't want to come.
She stopped.
Read it.
Then sent it.
Three dots appeared.
Tessa: I didn't say you didn't want to come.
Amara stared at the screen.
She didn't reply.
A few seconds later:
Tessa: Forget it.
Amara's chest tightened.
She typed quickly.
No, wait. That's not what I meant. I just wanted you to understand that—
She stopped.
Deleted it.
She put the phone inside her bag.
“Forget it,” she whispered.
But she didn't.
When she got back to her room, she opened her laptop.
The assignment stared back at her.
She tried to concentrate.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Her phone remained silent.
She reached for it.
Nothing.
She placed it down.
Picked it up again.
Still nothing.
At 11:38 p.m., she finally called.
Tessa answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Are you angry with me?”
A pause.
“No.”
“You sound angry.”
“I sound tired.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
“I just wanted you to know I wasn't trying to"
“Amara.”
“Yes?”
“You don't have to explain.”
Amara went quiet.
Tessa sighed.
“I know you.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you sound upset?”
“Because you always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Turn everything into an explanation.”
Amara sat up.
“I don't.”
“You do.”
“I was just trying to"
“There!” Tessa laughed softly. “You're doing it again.”
Amara opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Tessa continued.
“Come tomorrow. We'll talk.”
“Okay.”
“And Amara?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop worrying.”
The call ended.
Amara stared at the phone.
She looked at the assignment on her laptop.
Then at the time.
11:47 p.m.
She opened the document and began typing.
The next afternoon, Amara walked into the cafe and saw Tessa already sitting by the window.
“You're late.”
“I'm sorry.”
Tessa raised an eyebrow.
“I know. Traffic.”
Amara smiled.
“You know me too well.”
“Unfortunately.”
They laughed.
For a while, everything felt normal.
Then Tessa placed her cup on the table.
“Why do you always explain yourself?”
Amara's smile faded.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
Amara looked away.
Tessa leaned forward.
“You say no, then you explain why. You cancel plans, then you explain why. Someone gets upset with you, and you immediately start defending yourself.”
“Because I don't want people to misunderstand me.”
“And if they do?”
Amara shrugged.
“I don't know.”
“You panic.”
“I don't panic.”
Tessa laughed.
“You called me at midnight because you thought I was angry.”
“You were angry.”
“I wasn't.”
“You sounded angry.”
“I was tired.”
“Same thing.”
Tessa shook her head.
“You're impossible.”
Amara smiled.
“Thank you.”
“I wasn't complimenting you.”
“I'll take it anyway.”
They laughed again.
Then Tessa reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
“You don't have to make everyone understand you, you know.”
Amara looked at her.
“Maybe.”
“No. Not maybe.”
Tessa released her hand.
“Sometimes people will misunderstand you.”
Amara said nothing.
“And you have to let them.”
She looked through the window.
People moved along the street outside.
Cars passed.
Someone laughed.
A child ran after his mother.
Amara watched them.
“I don't think I can do that.”
Tessa smiled sadly.
“You'll learn.”
Amara looked back at her.
“Learn what?”
Tessa picked up her cup.
“How to stop explaining.”
Amara laughed.
“That sounds impossible.”
“Maybe.”
Tessa took a sip.
“But you'll learn.”
Amara smiled.
She didn't know it then.
She didn't know that months later, she would remember that conversation.
She didn't know that one day, someone she loved would demand an explanation she could no longer give.
And she certainly didn't know that when that day came, she would finally understand what Tessa meant.
For now, she was still the girl who explained everything.
And she was very good at it...
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