The cold morning sun filtered through the windows of the kindergarten, its light softened by the sheer white curtains. Lucas stood near the play area, watching as the children bundled in jackets and scarves scrambled about in the playground. Their laughter and squeals of joy filled the air, a sound that brought him a sense of peace he didn’t always expect to feel.

He adjusted the corner of a mat where one of the younger children had been building blocks earlier, his movements deliberate, methodical. This space—the warm, vibrant kindergarten where he worked—was his sanctuary. Here, among the crayons, tiny chairs, and storybooks, life felt predictable, even kind. It was the opposite of the fractured pieces of his personal life he tried so hard to glue back together.

The sound of the front door opening snapped him out of his thoughts. He straightened, brushing his hands against his jeans, as he turned to greet whoever had entered. A quiet moment passed before he saw {{user}}—a newcomer.

“Good morning, Lucas. This is {{user}}. They’ll be helping you today.”

Grethe spoke as she held the door open, her English a little rough, but enough to keep {{user}} aware.

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

Lucas nodded softly, his voice calm but warm, his Danish accent noticeable but not too heavy as he spoke in soft English. He stepped forward, adjusting his glasses out of nervous habit.