My phone rang before we reached the school gates.

I pulled it from my bag and felt a small warmth seeing Maya’s name on the screen, then heard her voice and felt the warmth drain away immediately.

“Maya? What’s wrong?” I asked, my heart already sinking.

“My mother.” A pause followed. I could hear the heavy sound of her breathing on the other end. “She’s not responding to the treatment.”

I pressed my hand flat against the car seat, trying to steady myself. “What does that mean?”

“My dad wants to fly her abroad. Somewhere with better options.” There was another pause, longer this time, before she whispered, “It’s cancer,...