The clock always seemed to run faster in the mornings.
No matter how quickly Kwan Khao moved, time chased her down like a cruel game she could never win. She packed the last lunchbox, wiped the counter clean, and glanced at the wall clock—too late again. With a soft groan, she hurried upstairs for a shower, moving with the speed of someone who had long mastered the rhythm of exhaustion.
Her makeup bag was already in the car, along with the simple jewelry she wore to work.
There was no time for her usual careful routine—being a single mother meant choosing between looking flawless and simply being on time.
A quick look in the mirror to check her blouse, her skirt, her hair—good enough.
Then she turned toward the small bedroom next door.
"Tonkla, sweetheart, wake up. Mommy has to go to work."
The boy stirred, his soft voice muffled under the blanket.
"Can't you stay home today, Mom?"
Her heart ached at the sleepy plea. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, breathing in that familiar scent of soap and sunshine.
"I can't, baby. Mommy has to go to the office today."
Since the pandemic, she'd often been allowed to work from home, juggling meetings and meals from her tiny kitchen table.
But some days—like today—she had to show up in person. There were documents to sign, reports to check, and a boss who liked things done his way.
"My boss called an urgent meeting," she said gently.
"Can't you do it online like last time?" Tonkla mumbled, eyes half-open.
"Not this time, sweetheart. Come on, get up. Aunt Sai will be here soon."
Aunt Sai—the kind neighbor who had become family—would take care of him during the day.
"Just five more minutes?" he tried again, pouting.
"Everyone else gets to wear pajamas to online class."
Kwan Khao laughed softly, brushing his messy hair.
"How about you wear your handsome uniform instead? That way your teacher will see what a good, smart boy you are. You'll feel fresh and ready to learn, hmm? And… did you finish your homework?"
"Almost. Just one subject left," he muttered.
Their eyes met—his guilty, hers patient.
"Do you need help?" she asked. "I can look at it before I go."
He shook his head quickly and dashed toward the bathroom.
"I'll finish it later! We still have two days!" he shouted from inside, then peeked his little face out of the door again, flashing a grin with those tiny dimples that always melted her heart.
"Come home early, okay, Mom? I'll wait for you. We'll watch cartoons together!"
The warmth in his voice made her smile—just before something inside her whispered that today would not end the way she expected.