My daughter was sitting on the floor surrounded by notebooks, printed pages, and highlighters. The boy was at her desk, carefully explaining something while pointing at a page. They both looked startled for a second, then quickly composed themselves.
“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, feeling my face heat up. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
My daughter stood up a little, surprised but calm. “It’s okay, Mom. We’re just studying for exams.”
The boy nodded respectfully. “We’re going over math exercises. She asked me to help her understand the equations.”
I looked around the room more carefully now. It really was exactly what they said—school books open, exercise sheets everywhere, even a small schedule written on the whiteboard she had on her wall.
Something in my chest loosened, mixed with embarrassment for doubting them so quickly.
“I should have knocked,” I said softly.
My daughter smiled a little. “It’s fine. We were almost done anyway.”
