The next morning, soft rays of sun filtered through the frost-covered windows of Maya's room. She woke with energy, made her bed, and glanced at her grandmother's empty pillow — she had gotten up earlier than usual. Curious, Maya stepped out of the room and saw her parents and grandmother seated quietly around the breakfast table, sipping tea and nibbling bread in calm silence.
She joined them without a word and ate a few bites. Then, casting a side glance at her grandmother, she gently motioned, "I'm going to practice."
Her grandmother gave a slight nod — a silent but meaningful approval.
Maya headed to the storage room to grab her figure skates. At that very moment, her father put on his heavy coat and walked toward the door. But her grandmother, eyes still fixed on Maya through the window, quickly said:
"My son, wait a moment. Can you take a quick look at my glasses? They just don't sit right on my face."
Her father replied impatiently, "I'll check them when I get back this afternoon, Mom."
But with a firm voice, her grandmother said, "I want to finish some embroidery now. Would you please take a look now?"
He hesitated briefly, then sighed and took the glasses. He examined them for a moment and said,
"There's nothing wrong with these. What exactly is the issue?"
Her grandmother put them on and smiled. "How strange… it seems like they fixed themselves!"
Her father frowned. "So you were just wasting my time?"
She chuckled. "I swear they were crooked last night. But thanks for checking."
Now that the coast was clear, Maya quietly slipped out and made her way to the frozen lake. The icy wind bit her cheeks, but her heart burned with excitement. She laced up her skates and began to glide, spinning gracefully — until one misstep twisted her ankle. She fell to the hard ice with a thud.
Pain shot through her foot. Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself to the lake's edge and pulled off her skate. Her ankle was already bruised.
She looked around — not a soul in sight. With a worried whisper, she muttered,
"What do I do now…"
With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and called her grandmother.
"Hello, Grandma?"
"Hi sweetheart. What's wrong?"
"There's a problem… no one saw me. But I fell again. This time, I think I hurt my ankle badly. It really hurts… I can't walk properly. I don't want Mom or Dad to find out."
Her grandmother paused for a second, then said firmly,
"No one must know. I'll come get you myself."
"I can call a friend to help me. I'll ask her not to tell anyone."
"No. You're not close enough to trust anyone like that. Stay there. I'm coming."
A few minutes later, her grandmother arrived, breathless but determined.
"Oh my dear, let me see your foot… Oh, that's badly swollen."
"I can barely walk."
"Okay, lean on me. We'll go back together."
Maya draped her arm over her grandmother's shoulder. The walk back was long and difficult; each step weighed heavily on the older woman. Finally, Maya said:
"This isn't working. I'm going to hurt you if we keep going. Let's call Dad. I'll tell him I slipped on the snow."
Her grandmother thought for a moment. "Let's get farther from the lake first. Then we'll call him."
They made it halfway before her grandmother, exhausted from the effort, had to stop and rest. She took Maya's skates and headed home, while Maya called her father.
At the hospital, a doctor wrapped Maya's ankle. On the way home, her father asked with suspicion:
"The doctor said a simple slip wouldn't injure your ankle this badly. Did you lie to me?"
Maya hesitated. "No… I tried to jump over a curb and slipped. That's all."
He sighed. "Alright. But be more careful from now on. You're not a kid anymore."
When they returned home, Maya went straight to her room — only to find her grandmother lying in bed, clearly unwell.
"Grandma, are you okay?"
"Don't worry. I think I caught a cold. I'll be better tomorrow… Did your father suspect anything?"
"No, he didn't."
"How's your foot?"
"The doctor said it's not serious. I'll be fine in a few days."
That night, after dinner, the two returned to their room. In the dim light before sleep, Maya asked softly:
"Grandma, if going to the Olympics means so much to you, why didn't you tell me to go to the capital earlier? Now I'm a bit too old to start professionally."
Her grandmother smiled faintly. "Two years ago, Lian Victor was still coaching in Russia. You couldn't have gone there. But now he's here… and Maya, it's never too late if your heart is ready."
Maya grinned. "Don't joke with me, I'm being serious."
Her grandmother sighed gently. "Back then, you weren't ready. But now… now I believe you are."
Maya hugged her pillow and stared at the ceiling. Then suddenly, she asked,
"By the way… last night you didn't finish your story. Were you the one who fell in love with Grandpa first?"
Her grandmother gazed into the distance and began in a quiet voice:
"No… it was he who fell for me first. I didn't take it seriously at first. But after he left and two months passed… I felt this strange emptiness inside. That's when I realized my heart had stayed with him."
She paused, searching for the memory through the haze of time.
"One day, out of the blue, he came back with his father and proposed. I… said yes."
Maya's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Because you loved him?"
Her grandmother gave a bittersweet smile.
"Not really. Honestly… I was just trying to escape the farmhand my family wanted me to marry. But eventually, I did fall for him. He was so kind, so handsome, so polite. All the girls in the village were after him."
Maya, eyes sparkling, asked eagerly: "What happened next?"
Her grandmother let out a soft sigh.
"We didn't have a wedding. Just a simple gathering. Eight months later, one of his relatives came to the village and took him away… he never came back."
Silence filled the room like a slow-moving shadow.
"I was pregnant with your father. I couldn't stay in my old village anymore. So I moved here with my parents… and this place became our home."
Maya whispered: "That must've been hard…"
Her grandmother nodded slowly. "It was. But I did my best. I've always felt like I owed your father a good life. He always wanted to live in the city, but that dream never came true. I just hope… he forgives me someday."
Maya said gently: "He loves you. I can tell. But… do you think life in the city is truly better?"
Her grandmother replied with deep meaning: "Things are different now. The internet and everything else have closed the gap between city and village. But if you want to chase big dreams, you have to go where people can see you. And that place… is the city."
Maya whispered to herself, "But first… we have to convince Dad."
Her grandmother smiled knowingly.
"He'll come around. I know my son."
A soft silence lingered between them.
But in Maya's heart, a storm of questions had begun.
If Grandpa never came back…
then why does Grandma still open the window every night before she sleeps?