Jane
Amira stayed with me as I trained, sitting on a bench and watching every move with those worried eyes. She kept offering me water, telling me to be careful, fussing over me like a mother hen.
“Baby girl, take it easy,” she said gently when I started getting too aggressive with the punching bag. “I don’t want you hurting yourself. You’re already going through so much.”
“I won’t, honey,” I replied. I drank the water she offered, letting her care soothe some of the rough edges of my anger. “I’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“Okay... but I still insist—take it easy. Promise me?”
“I promise. Now stop worrying so much. You’ll get wrinkles.”
She laughed at that, and the sound made me smile for real.
After saying goodbye to her with promises to call if I needed anything, I returned to my room f
