The evening sun dipped low in the sky, Zaria walked slowly toward the market, an old basket in her hand. Her eyes were tired, her steps heavy. Her dress, once white, was now a dull gray, torn slightly at the hem. Her hair was unkempt from days without proper care, and her feet were dry and cracked. Yet she moved forward, because she had to. There was no choice.
Sarah had sent her to buy onions and salt—just enough to make a watery soup for supper. Zaria knew better than to delay. Any excuse would only invite punishment. But deep inside, she prayed for even a brief moment of relief. A moment where no one yelled, hit, or ordered her around. A moment where she could just be.
As she neared the market, a familiar voice called out behind her.
"Zaria!"
She turned quickly.
There stood Linda, her childhood friend, wearing her school uniform, her braids neat and swaying gently in the breeze. Her school bag hung over one shoulder, and her eyes widened with shock as she took in the sight of her friend.
"Linda!" Zaria said, her voice cracking with emotion.
Linda rushed toward her, throwing her arms around her. She held her tightly and then pulled back slightly, tears already forming in her eyes.
"Zaria... oh my God," Linda whispered, staring at her. "You look so thin… so tired."
Zaria smiled weakly, trying to keep the moment from becoming a pity party. "I'm okay."
"No, you're not," Linda said, wiping her tears quickly. "I've been so worried about you. I wanted to visit, but… I was scared of your mother. She's always so harsh."
Zaria nodded slowly. "It's okay. I understand."
Linda looked like she had been holding everything in for weeks. Her eyes darted over Zaria's face, the bruises fading on her cheeks, her small frame more fragile than before. "I've missed you so much," she said softly. "School hasn't been the same without you."
Zaria looked away, blinking back tears. "I miss school too," she whispered. "More than anything."
Linda reached into her bag and pulled out a small bun wrapped in paper. "Here. I saved this for after class, but I want you to have it."
Zaria hesitated, then took it with both hands. "Thank you."
They walked slowly together, just a little off the path to the market. It felt like old times, when life was simpler—when they could laugh and play without fear.
"Zaria," Linda said after a quiet moment, "do you know that Teacher Lilian asks about you every day?"
Zaria looked up. "She does?"
"Yes," Linda said. "She keeps saying she's worried. She came to your house one morning a few weeks ago. I think it was on a Friday. She told us about it during class. She wanted to speak with your father."
Zaria stopped walking. Her chest tightened.
Linda continued gently, "She said she begged him to let you come back to school. She told him that you were a bright girl… that you had so much potential. But…" she paused.
"What did he say?" Zaria asked, though part of her already knew.
Linda sighed. "He told her you were none of her business. That she shouldn't interfere in family matters."
Zaria looked down, silent tears falling from her eyes.
Linda reached out and held her hand. "I'm so sorry."
Zaria wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I… I thought he would help me. But he didn't. He didn't even look at me like I was his daughter."
"I don't understand how he could do that," Linda said. "You're the kindest person I know. And one of the smartest."
Zaria gave a faint smile. "Thank you."
They sat down on a fallen tree by the edge of the path. For a few minutes, they just listened to the wind rustling through the grass.
Then Zaria sat up straighter. "Linda… do you think you can help me with something?"
"Of course. Anything."
"Every weekend, in the evening when you go to collect firewood," Zaria said slowly, "could you bring all the topics you study that week? Maybe we could meet for a little while, and you could help me understand the lessons?"
Linda's face lit up. "Yes! That can work! I'd love to do that. I'll even bring you my notes and help explain everything."
Zaria's heart warmed. "Thank you, Linda. I'll copy them down too. I still have my old books. I can teach myself at night."
Linda tilted her head. "At night?"
Zaria nodded. "I sleep in the store room. It's small, but no one checks on me there. I can read without them noticing."
Linda looked thoughtful for a moment. "Wait—then you need a torch."
Zaria blinked. "A torch?"
"Yes," Linda said, already planning it in her head. "I'll ask my mom to buy you a small one. And we can get you batteries. That way, you can read at night without using candles. It's safer too."
Zaria felt her throat tighten. She never imagined someone would go so far for her.
"Why are you so kind to me?" she asked in a small voice.
Linda smiled through tears. "Because you're my best friend. And no one deserves to be treated the way they treat you. I can't do everything, but I can help you learn. I can help you keep dreaming."
Zaria stood up and hugged her again. "You have no idea what this means to me."
They cried softly together, the sun dipping even lower behind them.
After a while, Zaria pulled back. "I should go. If I'm late, they'll shout."
Linda nodded, wiping her eyes. "Okay. But I'll see you on Saturday evening, near the trees where we collect firewood. Same time?"
"Yes," Zaria said. "I'll be there."
Linda smiled, a little brighter now. "And I'll tell Teacher Lilian. She'll be happy to hear this. Maybe she can help you more too."
Zaria smiled, her eyes still damp but shining with something new—hope.
"Thank you, Linda."
"Always."
As they parted ways, Zaria turned back once and waved. For the first time in a long while, her heart felt a little lighter.
Maybe she was still trapped in a house that didn't love her, but she wasn't alone.
And in the darkness of her small world, Linda had lit a tiny torch of hope.