That morning, Zara stood in front of the mirror wearing her new uniform.
The collar felt tight around her neck, as if it were slowly closing in. Her fingers clutched a notebook that hung awkwardly at her side. Outside the window, the street buzzed with car horns and voices. The sounds of birds and roosters from home were gone—replaced by cold, metallic noise.

The school building loomed ahead like a fortress. Gray bricks and glass windows stretched upward, blocking the sky. Once inside, students poured into the hallways like a rushing tide. Everyone seemed to know exactly where to go.

Zara froze.

Where do I belong?

When the bell rang, she stared down at the paper in her hand.
Room 204.
The numbers looked less like directions and more like a code she didn't know how to break. Every door looked the same. The hallways twisted like a maze.

She held out the paper to a passing student and tried to ask for help. The girl glanced at her and walked away without a word. In the middle of all the noise, Zara felt completely alone—like time had stopped just for her.

By the time she found the room and slipped inside, class had already started.

The door closed behind her.

Dozens of eyes turned at once.

The teacher squinted at the paper and stumbled over her name.

"Za... ra?"

A few students snickered. The sound cut into Zara's ears like a blade. Heat rushed to her face so fast she felt her heart pounding in her cheeks.

Even my name is something to laugh at here.

She took a seat in the very back of the classroom. Words filled the board, but the teacher's voice rushed past her, turning into a wall she couldn't climb. Her hand trembled around the pen. The page in her notebook stayed empty.

Every time the student next to her answered a question, Zara felt herself sinking deeper into her chair.

At lunch, students ran outside in clusters, laughing and calling to one another. Zara stayed behind and opened her lunchbox. Even the smell of the food felt unfamiliar. The empty classroom looked larger than before. Sunlight streamed through the window—warm in the air, but cold against her shoulders.

I'm here, but no one sees me.
There are so many people, and I'm completely alone.
So many paths... and I don't know which one is mine.

She lowered her head and stared at the back of her hand.

Then, from a nearby classroom, a melody drifted through the wall.
Fast and bright. A song the other students seemed to know. Zara didn't understand the words, but the sound stirred something inside her.

A song... maybe that's something I can understand.

And suddenly, another melody rose to meet it—the one she used to sing with Amani back home.

This land was given by God, a home where rivers run.
We are one, and someday we will meet again on the promised hill.

Her voice wavered and fell silent.

But deep in her chest, Zara felt it—a small ember, still alive.

Someday, someone will hear my voice.
Someday...