Jojo’s P.O.V.
I had spent the entire day with Lucy, and somehow, I had survived. More than that—I had thrived.
It wasn’t that I had doubted myself at any point in time, per se. I was a teacher, after all. I spent my days wrangling children and molding young minds into something greater than their snack-obsessed, short-attention-spanned selves. But there was a massive difference between managing a classroom of twenty kids in an educational setting and spending the whole day in a five-year-old’s personal kingdom, where Barbie dolls ruled, unicorns were real, and naps were an offense punishable by tantrums.
And yet, I had done it.
Lucy and I had played with her Barbies—though I had quickly learned that my ideas for Barbie’s day were NOT Lucy-approved. Apparently, Barbie was not interested
