Chapter 1
Maya
A heart-wrenching whimper reaches my ears. Though barely audible amid the lively sounds of the kindergarten group, I am immediately alarmed.
It's Frida.
I look up from the cardboard butterflies I'm cutting out for the summer festival, blowing a strand of my long black hair away from my face. The bright June sunlight streams through the windows, casting a colorful glow over the whimsically decorated room. The glass beads of the mobile above the entrance sparkle with a rainbow of colors, and the vibrant red of the play kitchen glows even more intensely.
My gaze continues to wander until I find the crying girl, who shows up at the kindergarten day after day, only wearing tights and a T-shirt. Over in the corner with the building blocks, she buries her head between her tightly drawn-up knees.
"There she goes again." My boss, Nadine, shakes her head with an exasperated snort and reaches for the hot glue gun. "Can't this child go a single day without creating drama?"
I look into her icy-blue eyes. "Why did you become a preschool teacher, anyway?"
Of course, she's the boss, and if I've learned one thing during my internship here, direct criticism isunwelcome. Nevertheless, I can't help but ask her the question.
"That's none of your business." Nadine shrugs indifferently and crumples the red tissue paper in her hand into something that was supposed to be a lovingly shaped flower for the wall decoration.
If it were just about me, I wouldn't say a word. But her cold demeanor is directed at the little innocent beings we have the privilege of caring for.
"Not mine, but it is the children's business." I reply so quietly that she probably can't hear it, pushing the tiny wooden chair behind me as I stand.
I walk past the dollhouse, the construction workshop, and the painting corner. I almost stumble over a miniature train that one of the wild rascals left in the middle of the room.
A few seconds later, I sink onto the soft carpeted floor of the building corner and pull three-year-old Frida into my arms. Her red curls reek of cold cigarette smoke.
"What happened?" I ask the little one, stroking her back reassuringly.
She doesn't answer. I only notice how she plays with my oversized earrings, sparkling in all colors. Frida sure loves that.
"Together, we can solve any problem, you know," I whisper while gently rocking her back and forth. "You remember, don't you? We're both..."
"Superheroes." Frida's voice is so faint that I can hardly hear it.
I smile. Because suddenly, I feel strong too. "Exactly. And what do superheroes do?"
She pushes herself away from me slightly and looksup at me with her green eyes. "They can do anything." A conspiratorial grin appears on her freckle-covered face.
"So if a superhero can handle anything, nothing can happen to them that they can't fix, right?" I lovingly wipe the tears from her cheeks. In the corner of my eye, I see Nadine throwing her arms up in the air. Due to her sour expression, she looks completely out of place in the group room, which appears so cheerful with its yellow curtains and children's drawings on the wall.
"Do I have to do everything alone?" She rants in a volume she knows I can hear. Then she turns with a grim expression to the rainbow-colored stack of construction paper sheets on the craft table.
"Nadine is mad at you." Frida wrinkles her button nose.
Though I flinch inwardly, I mimic the little one's grimace. "So what?" I whisper back. Then I turn my face away so Nadine can't see it and contort my features until the little one giggles.
Experiencing her laughter is worth any sacrifice. No matter how difficult it can be having Nadine as my boss, time with the children makes up for it. With them, I am in a different world. A place where there's no pressure. They don't pretend; they don't lie. And they see the world just the way I love it. Like through a magical kaleidoscope that casts a rainbow hue over everything.
I nod encouragingly to Frida. "Do you want to tell me now why you were crying?"
She lowers her eyelids in shame. I can barely understand what she murmurs, but as I also let my gaze fall, I don't need to understand anymore. She triesto hide the dark stain on her beige tights with her hands, but I can still see it clearly.
"Please, don't tell on me," she whispers with a voice choked with tears.
Instantly, I empathize with her. I feel her shame and guilt as if they were my own. Still, I smile at her reassuringly.
"You can rely on me. And you know what? Coincidentally, I brought a magic cloak with me today." I pretend to pull a cloth from my bright blue flowing skirt. "Anything this covers becomes invisible."
