Whoever invented sports day at elementary schools was definitely a sadist. It was a cruel invention, thinly veiled as "fun" but designed to test the limits of patience for every adult forced to endure it. Aiah stood among the sea of parents, the sun unforgiving as it bore down on the school field, watching the chaos unfold.
Her daughter, Kaela, had just come in second in the sack race. Not bad for a first grader, but Kaela's tiny face was crumpled in disappointment, eyes locked on the boy who took first place.
"It's okay, baby. You did so well. Out of your whole class, you came in second! That's amazing."
Aiah crouched down, smoothing Kaela's sweat-stuck hair back from her face. She had spent years absorbing every gentle parenting philosophy, rehearsing calm affirmations, mantras of patience. It wasn't always easy, but damn it, she tried.
Kaela kicked at the dirt. "Thanks, Mommy. But Ian won again. He always wins. And he's so annoying."
Aiah chuckled softly. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll win more things. You're amazing at so many things, not just races."
Still, as the medal ceremony began, Aiah dutifully pulled out her phone, ready to capture Kaela's proud moment.
"The silver medal goes to Mariah Kaela Arceta-Perez!" the announcer called.
"Wooo! Go babe!" Aiah cheered, snapping photos as Kaela shuffled onto the second-place spot on the rickety wooden podium, managing a small smile.
"The gold medal goes to Michael Ian Del Mundo-Lim!"
The crowd clapped politely, but one voice sliced through it like a knife.
"GO IAN!"
The voice was sharp, familiar, and sent a cold wave down Aiah's spine.
No. No, no, no.
Aiah's head whipped around on instinct.
There, standing by the bleachers, unmistakable even after all these years, was Mikha Lim.
Her once fiery red hair was now a deep, sophisticated shade of purple, tucked beneath a backward cap like she always wore in college. Same confident stance, arms crossed over her chest. Same cocky grin as she hollered for her kid.
Her kid.
Aiah's stomach dropped.
"Fuck." The word escaped before she could catch it.
Kaela turned her head. "Mommy?"
"Nothing, sweetie." Aiah forced a smile, but her mind was already spiraling.
Of all the schools in the city. Of all the classes. Of all the kids.
Ian Del Mundo-Lim.
Lim.
Mikha had a kid. A first grader.
And that kid had just beaten Kaela.
The universe had to be kidding.
Aiah quickly scanned the field again. Maybe Mikha was just here for someone else's kid? A cousin? A friend?
Nope. Mikha was already striding toward the podium, camera in hand, that same swagger that used to make Aiah's stomach flip for entirely different reasons. She was grinning ear to ear as Ian accepted his gold medal, cheering like the world's most annoying cheerleader.
Aiah ducked slightly behind another parent, heart pounding.
"Of all the people..." she muttered under her breath.
