a sound she hadn't heard before

twenty.

"Ayla, sweetheart, can we talk about some things?" Taylor says to her daughter as they're sitting at the breakfast table the next morning. Taylor wants to both give Ayla a space to truly express how she has been feeling, if she meant what she said on last night's FaceTime call, and also discuss Joe together.

"Yeah," Ayla replies, taking another bite of her yogurt parfait that Taylor made her.

"Last night, when I called you, did you mean it when you said you didn't think I was home enough?"

"I don't know," Ayla shrugs. "Jane's mommy is always home with her after school. So is Claudia's."

Taylor frowns. "I'm sorry about that, sweetie."

"It's okay," she replies. "I still love you, Mommy."

"I know that this isn't a way to defend myself, because I've made you feel sad by not being home, and that's not okay, but I need you to understand that I have a very special job. It's something that not a lot of other mommies get to do, but it's something that has a weird schedule and I know that."

"I miss when we got to play together all of the time," Ayla says. "Before I went to school and before you went to work."

Taylor can't help but feel something nagging in her stomach. All of this is just coming... too out of nowhere for her little girl, so she asks the question that she's afraid of. "Is this really about me not being home, or is it about something else? Are you unhappy at school? Are you feeling sick?"

"I'm not sick," she replies.

"Is school okay?"

Taylor is answered with silence from her daughter.

"Ayla, you need to answer me, sweetie. Is everything okay at school?" By now, Taylor already knows the answer. Something's wrong, but she has no idea what it could be. Every day, Ayla comes out of the building and tells Taylor how good her day was. "Are the kids all being nice?"

"Yeah, everyone's nice," she shrugs.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Please tell me. I'm worried about you."

"My teacher isn't very nice," Ayla says eventually. "I don't think she likes me very much."

"What do you mean?" Taylor asks. Ayla's teacher, Mrs. Tate, has always seemed nice in the communications that Taylor has had with her.

"Well, she always yells at everybody, and I don't know why. She's always angry, and she takes away everybody's recess when stupid Tommy doesn't listen to her. And he never listens to her, so we don't ever get to play. We just have to keep doing stupid math. And you and I always played before I went to school, Mommy."

Taylor frowns. She doesn't like to hear that. "Do you like playing with Dani after school?"

"I do..."

"Do you want me to talk to the school about Mrs. Tate?"

"I don't know. I guess so."

"You guys need to get to have time to play during your day. It isn't fair of her to punish the whole class for one kid's actions. I'll call your school and ask about it on Monday, okay?"

"Alright."

"Now, I want to see my happy little girl again. It's the weekend. You don't have to go and watch your teacher yell at Tommy today, so let's see a smile."

Ayla lets out a little giggle as a smile grows on her face.

"And I'll tell you what. You can stay up a little bit later, and when I come home from work, we can play for half an hour from now on. Sound good?"