The next morning, Alessia was already gone by the time Susannah woke olli/li/ol

    Themp was turned off, the nket neatly pulled up, and the bedroom door closed behind her-small things that made Susannah wonder for a moment if everything that had happened the night before had just been a lovely dream. Then she spotted the note on her desk and smiled despite herself.

    She threw off her covers and hurried out of the room, but when she reached Alessia’s door and found it wide open, her excitement faltered. The room was empty.

    Susannah darted through the house to the kitchen, out in the garden. There, her grandmother was filling bowls with warm corn and sweet

    potato.  ?

    “Grandma, where’s Ms. Morton? Did she already leave?”

    “Ms. Morton went out early to have a look around the neighborhood,” her grandmother replied, handing Susannah a te. “She’ll be back soon, I expect. Go set the table, breakfast is almost ready.”

    “Okay, but-Grandma, are we taking the teachers to the school today?” Susannah bnced the hot te in her hands, hesitating at the doorway. “Yes, but there’s no rush. It’s still early-take your time.” It was only six, but the summer sun had already filled the sky with light.

    “Alright.” Susannah brought the food to the small table in the yard,

    peering down the path to see if Alessia was returning.

    “Grandma, how long has Ms. Morton been gone?”

    “About half an hour, I suppose. She got up before I did-must not have slept well. She even helped with breakfast.”

    Just then, the clock in the hallway chimed six.

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    “Good morning, Susannah.”

    Susannah, distracted by the clock, turned to see Alessiaing through the gate. All her earlier energy vanished-she blushed and ducked her head, suddenly shy.

    “Good morning, Ms. Morton.”

    “She’s been asking after you since she woke up, and now you’re back, she goes all quiet,” her grandmother teased.

    “Grandma!” Susannah pouted, yfully indignant at being exposed.

    “Anything I can do to help?” Alessia asked, ruffling Susannah’s hair as they walked back into the yard. Susannah’s grandmother was making her way over with her cane.

    “No, no, just eat up,” her grandmother insisted. “You’ll need a good breakfast-the walk to the school goes over that big hill, and it’ll take you youngsters at least an hour.”

    Alessia raised an eyebrow. She was fine with long walks, but she wondered about the others.

    “Do we need toe home for lunch?” she asked.

    “No need. The school serves lunch. In summer, sses start at eight and

    finish at five.”

    “What about in winter?” Alessia asked.

    “In winter, the days are shorter. We start at nine and finish at four. If the weather’s bad, we let the children go half an hour earlier,” Susannah

    chimed in.

    Alessia listened, then peeled an egg and ced it in Susannah’s bowl.

    Susannah’s grandmother noticed but said nothing; she just gave Alessia the egg she’d peeled for herself. Susannah grinned, happily eating her share.

    She swung her legs under the table, clearly in high spirits.

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    12:18

    After breakfast, the two of them headed to the vige gate to meet the rest of the group. Alessia held Susannah’s hand as the girl described all the things the vige children did throughout the year-catching frogs in the fields, chasing cicadas in the trees. In the mornings, everyone helped with chores before heading out, and in the evenings, they cooked and did theundry. Susannah, though, was lucky; her grandmother rented out their fields, so most days they just looked after their chickens and sold eggs at the weekend market.

    By the time they arrived, several other teachers and students were already gathered.

    “Susannah!” her friends called out, rushing over.

    “Your hair looks so pretty today, Susannah!” one of them said. Alessia, with time to spare that morning, had braided Susannah’s hair into a neat

    it.

    Yesterday, Alessia had smoothed Susannah’s hair with a touch of oil after

    their bath, and now it shone in the sunlight.

    “It’s Ms. Morton-she did it for me. Isn’t it nice?” Susannah beamed, shaking her hair proudly.

    “It’s beautiful! I wish I could, but my hair’s too short,” one friend sighed.

    Most of the boys kept their hair cropped short for convenience, and even the girls usually wore theirs in easy-to-manage styles. There was a local barber who’d trim it for a few coins, and everyone took turns in his chair.

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