Teacher Iven reopened the schoolhouse with a borrowed blackboard and three crates of slate tablets.
The room was too small for both the village children and the refugee families’ children. Iven had split the lessons between morning and afternoon. The older pupils would still need time to carry water and help at home. A parent named Lysa read the schedule and worried that her daughter’s orchard work would be cut short.
“She carries water before class,” Lysa said. “If she misses the morning, the household has to send someone else.”
Iven checked the hours. He had set the morning lesson before the usual water run, assuming the children could come straight from their cottages. Ning asked the families to list which chores could not be moved. Several children needed to fetch water; others helped with younger siblings or delivered vegetables to the market.
They adjusted the schedule so the older children could carry water before class. The morning lesson would begin half an hour later. The afternoon group would dismiss before the market road grew dark. Iven wrote both times on the door and asked Lysa to check the wording.
Yan cleared the schoolyard path with a shovel. The stones had been pushed toward the low side, leaving a slope that would collect rain. A boy named Cal asked why Yan was not using his strength to move them by hand.
