Daniel nearly choked on his tea.
“Mother.”
Margaret waved him off. “Don’t mother me. I am your mother.”
Hannah smiled.
“What scholarship?”
Daniel set down his cup. “It’s something we’re developing through the foundation.”
Margaret leaned toward Hannah as if sharing a secret.
“For girls who had to grow up too soon.”
Hannah’s smile faded.
Daniel looked uncomfortable, but Margaret continued.
“There are many of them. Girls who become mothers without children. Girls who hold houses together with tape and prayers. Girls who are told they are strong so often that no one asks if they are tired.”
Hannah stared at her.
Margaret’s blue eyes were clear.
“Were you tired, Hannah?”
The question broke through every defense she had.
Hannah looked down at her plate.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Margaret reached across the table and patted her hand.
“I thought so.”
Daniel spoke gently.
“The foundation board approved an education fund for caregivers and young adults who had to delay college because of family responsibilities. Flexible programs. Social work, nursing, education, community services.”
Hannah looked at him. “That’s incredible.”
“My mother insisted we start with Briar Glen.”
Margaret smiled proudly.
“And you,” she said.
Hannah froze.
“What?”
Daniel exhaled softly.
“You mentioned you once wanted to study social work.”
Hannah’s heart started pounding.
“I did, but that was years ago.”
“It doesn’t have to be over.”
“I have Sophie. Rent. Work.”
“The program is designed for people with jobs and responsibilities,” Daniel said. “Part-time study. Online and evening classes. Full tuition support.”
Hannah could not speak.
Margaret squeezed her hand.
“You opened your door,” she said. “Let us open one too.”
Tears blurred Hannah’s vision.
“I don’t know if I can accept that.”
Margaret tilted her head.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s too much.”
“No,” Margaret said, with sudden firmness. “Too much is a cold alley. Too much is a girl carrying the world alone. Education is not too much. It is a key.”
Hannah covered her mouth with her hand.
For years, college had been a sealed room in her mind. Something she walked past but did not enter. She had told herself it was fine. That dreams changed. That survival was noble enough.
And it was.
But survival had never stopped her from wanting more.
Daniel’s voice was quiet.
“There’s no pressure. But the opportunity is yours if you want it.”
Hannah looked at Margaret.
The old woman’s face had softened again, her clarity beginning to drift. She picked up her spoon and frowned at her soup as if surprised to find it there.
But her words remained.
It is a key.
That night, Hannah told Sophie.
Her sister screamed so loudly the downstairs neighbor banged on the ceiling.
“You have to do it!” Sophie cried.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“It’s a lot.”
“You always say that before doing impossible things.”
Hannah sat on the edge of the couch. “What if I fail?”
Sophie knelt in front of her.
“Then you’ll fail while doing something for yourself for once.”
Hannah laughed through tears.
“That is a terrible motivational speech.”
“It’s honest.”
Hannah looked around the apartment.