# Chapter 1 ## The Day Everything Changed At ten years old, I thought the worst thing that could happen was getting scolded by my mother. I was wrong. That morning, our house felt different. Too quiet. Usually, I would wake up to the sound of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. My mother would already be preparing breakfast while my younger siblings were still asleep. Sometimes she would call my name. "Mia, wake up. Help me with the rice." Other times, she would laugh when my youngest siblings fought over something as small as a spoon. That morning, there was nothing. No clattering dishes. No laughter. No voice calling my name. Only silence. I opened my eyes and sat up. For a moment, I didn't know why I felt afraid. Then I remembered. My mother was in the hospital. Again. She had been sick for some time, and hospital visits had already become part of our lives. But I wasn't afraid. My mother always came home. She always did. I climbed out of bed and walked toward my baby brother. He was only six months old. He was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of what was happening around him. I smiled and gently touched his tiny hand. "Good morning." He moved slightly but didn't wake up. I walked outside. My grandmother was sitting on a wooden chair. She wasn't doing anything. She was just staring at the ground. "Grandma?" She looked at me. Her eyes were red. I immediately became worried. "Why are you crying?" She quickly wiped her face. "I'm not crying." "You are." She tried to smile. "Your mother is still at the hospital." I nodded. "When is she coming home?" My grandmother didn't answer. I waited. "Today?" Still nothing. "Tomorrow?" She looked away. Something inside me began to feel cold. "Grandma?" She finally stood up and hugged me. I didn't understand. Why was she hugging me like that? "Don't worry," she whispered. "Everything will be okay." I believed her. I had no reason not to. I was ten years old. Children were supposed to believe adults when they said everything would be okay. --- Three days later, my grandmother returned from the hospital. She came through the doorway alone. I was sitting on the floor with my siblings when I saw her. My heart immediately sank. "Where's Mama?" My grandmother stopped. She looked at me. Her lips trembled. I stood up. "Where's Mama?" She didn't answer. I walked toward her. "Did she stay at the hospital?" My grandmother covered her face. Then she started crying. My siblings began crying too. I didn't understand. "Grandma?" She opened her arms. I stepped into them. She held me tightly. And then she said the words that divided my life into two parts. "Your mother is gone." I pulled away. "Gone where?" My grandmother cried harder. I looked toward the doorway. Maybe my mother was outside. Maybe she would suddenly walk in. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. "Where is she?" My grandmother held my face in her hands. "She's with God now." I stared at her. I didn't cry. Not yet. I couldn't understand how someone could simply disappear. My mother had been alive. She had talked to me. She had cooked for us. She had hugged us. How could she suddenly be gone? I looked at my baby brother. He started crying. I picked him up. He was only six months old. He didn't know that his mother was gone. I didn't know how to tell him. So I whispered the only thing I could think of. "Don't cry." I held him closer. "Mama will always love you." Even though I didn't know whether those words were meant for him... or for me. --- After my mother's funeral, our house changed. Everything felt empty. Her clothes were still there. Her cooking pots were still in the kitchen. Her things were still where she had left them. But she wasn't there. Sometimes I would walk into the kitchen and expect to hear her voice. Sometimes I would almost call her name. Then I would remember. She wasn't coming back. My father continued working. He was a hardworking farmer. People trusted him because he knew how to operate farm machinery. He worked with threshers and tractors in the rice fields. I knew he was hurting too. But I was too young to understand grief. I only knew that my family needed him. So I expected him to stay. I expected him to take care of us. I expected him to be our father. But a few months after my mother died... he left. I remember standing outside our house. I watched him walk away. I waited for him to turn around. He didn't. I waited until he disappeared from sight. Still, I believed he would come back. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe soon. But he didn't. My grandmother became the person who kept our family together. She didn't have much. Neither did we. But she made sure my siblings stayed together. She didn't allow our family to completely fall apart. And somehow, she became the adult we depended on. --- I tried to continue going to school Chapter 2 The Promise I Could Not Break Mia woke before the sun came up. The house was still dark, but she was already awake. She could hear the soft cries