Morning in the flat began with a reluctant rise. Emma, still halfasleep, heard muffled voices from the kitchen: Mum quietly set the kettle on, Dad rummaged for his keys. Outside, the grey dawn lingered longer than usual; only by eight the frost on the windowsill had melted away. In the hallway a pair of boots sat in a small puddle yesterdays snow had dripped straight onto the floor.
Emma slipped her feet out of bed and sat motionless for a long moment. Her maths notebook lay open on the headboard, the problems shed been wrestling with for two weeks staring back at her. She knew today was another test, the teacher would be strict, and Grandma would pepper her with questions about every single formula come evening.
Mum peered into the room.
Emma dear, its time to get up. Breakfast is getting cold.
The girl lingered, pulling on her dressing gown at a leisurely pace. A flicker of worry crossed Mums face Emma had been complaining of headaches and fatigue after school lately, but the habit of rushing never quite gave way.
The kitchen smelled of porridge and fresh bread. Grandma was already perched at the table.
Look at you, pale again! You should be in bed earlier and stop fiddling with that phone! Schools are tougher now miss a single day and youll never catch up!
Mum placed a plate in front of Emma and gave her shoulder a gentle pat.
Dad emerged from the bathroom, a glass of water in hand.
Got everything? Dont forget the textbooks
Emma gave a distracted nod. Her bag felt heavier than herself; thoughts tangled between homework and the upcoming dictation.
Later, when Emma left for school with Dad, Mum lingered by the window. A faint palmprint lingered on the glass as she watched her daughter disappear into the courtyard, surrounded by other kids in almost identical puffers everyone hurrying, conversation scarce.
That day Emma returned home earlier than expected, exhausted after the schools Russian language olympiad.
Grandma met her with a question.
How was the day? What did they set?
Emma shrugged.
Loads of stuff Im lost on the new topic
Grandma frowned.
Youve got to try harder! These days good grades are everything!
Mum listened from the next room, the girls voice thin and muffled, as if someone had turned the volume down inside her.
In the evening the parents sat together at the kitchen table, a vase of apples exuding a crisp scent.
Im getting more worried about her Look, shes hardly laughing at home anymore, Mum whispered.
Dad shook his head.
Maybe its just a phase?
Hed noticed it too Emma had become withdrawn, even around him. Books gathered dust for weeks, her favourite games no longer sparked joy.
The weekend only heightened the tension. Grandma kept urging Emma to get ahead with her times tables, citing examples from other families.
Lucys granddaughter is a straightA student shes winning every competition!
Emma listened halfheartedly, sometimes feeling it would be easier just to agree to everything, as long as someone let her have an hour or two without worksheets and checks.
Mum tried again that night.
Ive been reading about home schooling maybe we should give it a go?
Dad considered seriously.
And if it gets worse? How does it even work?
She showed him a few parent reviews: many described similar struggles that disappeared within a month of switching to home education, with a freedom to set the pace and a noticeably brighter home atmosphere.
In the days that followed the couple researched the ins and outs of home schooling: required paperwork, final assessments, where to find a suitable online school. Mum rang acquaintances, read reviews; Dad scoured timetables and platforms. The more they learned, the clearer it became the current school load was simply too much for Emma. She often fell asleep over her textbooks, missing dinner, and woke up with a headache, dreading the next test.
One evening, as darkness fell early and mittens dried on the radiator, the family discussion hit the nail on the head. Grandma was adamant.
I dont understand how a child can learn at home! Theyll get lazy, have no friends, and wont get into anything later!
Mum replied calmly but firmly.
We care more about Emmas health. We see how hard it is for her. There are online schools now, teachers mark the work, and were always there to help.
Dad added.
We dont want to wait for things to get worse. Lets at least try for a while.
Grandma sat silent for a long time, spoon clenched in her hand, fearing Emma would lose interest or become even more withdrawn. Yet when she saw Emmas face light up at the prospect of learning from home, something shifted inside her.
In early March the parents submitted a request to the school to switch to home schooling. The paperwork took less than a week just passports and birth certificates, exactly as the website promised. Emma stayed at home, logging into lessons on a laptop in the lounge.
The first few days felt odd: she approached the screen tentatively, but by weeks end she was answering teachers questions confidently, handing in assignments on time, even helping Mum with new topics. At lunch Emma chatted about an environmental project, debated math problems with Dad, and laughed. Grandma watched from the doorway, noting how her granddaughter was becoming the Emma she remembered.
Evening stretched lazily. Outside, the March snow was almost gone, and the few passersby hurried about their business. Inside, a new calm settled not the strained silence of stressful school days, but a soft, enveloping hush. Emma sat at the laptop, a literature assignment on the screen, a tidy notebook beside her. She explained a new concept to Mum, her voice animated, eyes bright.
Grandma shuffled over, pretending to be casual, but stealing glances at the screen. A bunch of spring onions perked up in a glass of water on the windowsill; a shaft of sun highlighted the white roots.
Show me your work? she asked after a pause.
Emma turned the screen toward her.
Here we have to pick a hero from the story and write a continuation
Grandma listened, curiosity mixing with bewilderment. She recalled her own school days no computers, no online lessons. Yet now her granddaughter seemed to be handling everything far better.
Dinner that night was a family affair. Mum served a salad of fresh spring onions lifted from a balcony pot spring was already flirting with the flat. Dad recounted work news; Emma interjected with details about her environment project, needing to build a cell model from household items.
Grandma initially sat mute, then asked.
How do you hand in tests now? Who marks them?
Mum explained.
All final work is uploaded to the platform; teachers mark it and give feedback instantly. We see the grades right away.
Dad added.
What matters most is that Emma is calmer and actually enjoys learning again.
The next day Grandma offered to help Emma with a new maths problem. Emma welcomed it; they both bent over the workbook by the window, where a thin line of frost still clung. The platforms buttons replaced pages, comments appeared beside the screen unfamiliar, but when Emma walked Grandma through the solution, the old lady smiled.
Well, would you look at that! You figured it out yourself?
Emma nodded proudly.
Gradually Grandma began to notice changes all around: Emma no longer jumped at the sound of the front door, nor hid her eyes when school came up. She started bringing out drawings and crafts for the new project, laughing at Dads jokes without forcing a smile.
Now the three of them would discuss lessons or flip through old family photo albums in the evenings. Grandma even set herself up with a login to peek at Emmas online school just to see how it worked.
By midApril the days grew longer, the sun lingered over the houses, and the balcony sprouted the first tomato seedlings and lettuce for salad. The flat felt lighter, filled with the fresh breath of spring and the promise of something new.
One night Grandma lingered at the family table a little longer than the others. She looked across at Emmas mother.
I used to think that without school a child learns nothing useful But now I see its more about being happy at home and wanting to learn yourself
Mum smiled gratefully; Dad gave a brief nod.
Emma lifted her head from the laptop.
Id love to do a big project! Maybe this summer we could visit an actual laboratory?
Dad laughed.
Now thats a plan! Well figure it out together!
No one rushed off to their rooms that evening; they talked about future trips and outdoor summer activities as the sun slipped slowly behind the livingroom window.
Emma was the first to turn in for the night, wishing everyone a good night in a voice free of worry or fatigue.
Spring was asserting itself confidently, and whatever changes lay ahead, the whole family would meet them together.
