Maya's POV
Monday morning arrived with the particular quality of something I had waited for.
I was up at six before the alarm. Showered and dressed by six-thirty. Standing in the kitchen window with coffee at six forty-five.
Luca came in at six fifty.
He looked at me fully dressed at six fifty and said nothing about it. Just went to pour his coffee and stood beside me at the window.
That was something I kept noticing. The absence of commentary on my process. He observed it and let it be.
"Nervous," he said. Not a question.
"Specifically nervous," I said. "Not scared. Just aware."
"Of what."
"Of walking back into something I built and having it look at me differently." I held my coffee. "I've been the teacher who won the award for two years. I don't know what I am now."
"The same
