It rained heavily, and the only sounds Ammi's ears could identify were the raindrops hammering on the zinc roof, the wind crashing into her windowpanes, and the drops falling from her leaking ceiling into the buckets she had placed around the room.

They all fell in a rhythm, a rhythm she had grown used to over the five years she had lived there. She grabbed her phone and checked the time. It was 8 AM on the dot, and the rain didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon. She sighed, knowing there was no stepping outside that morning.

She dreaded going out in the rain. Her nose cringed at the thought of that smell — like broken fresh egg — that always came with it. More time to sleep, she thought, and closed her eyes, drifting back into sleep.

Her eyes fluttered open an hour later. She had just had one of the strangest dreams. She lay still, staring at the floral pattern of her PVC ceiling as random thoughts floated in and out of her mind.

The rain had begun to ease. She tossed in her bed, trying to go back to sleep, but it was no use.

She gave up after another round of tossing and sighing. She sat up and reached for her Bible, which always sat beside her like a guardian angel. A small notebook and pen lay next to it, she used them to record her daily readings. She said a short prayer, since she had missed her usual prayer time, then got up and made her bed, smoothing the sheets until there wasn't a single crease.

She grabbed her wrapper from the small cushion beside the bed, then took her sweeping brush from behind the kitchen door and tidied her entire apartment. She had done the dishes the night before, so it was just the sweeping she needed to do.

By the time she was done, the electric kettle clicked, the water she had set on earlier was ready. She dashed into the bathroom with it, pouring it into her bathing pail.

An hour later, she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out. Her body was still dripping. In her rush, she had forgotten her towel. As her eyes scanned the room for the black piece of material, they landed on the wall mirror that faced the bathroom door.

Ammi couldn't explain — in that moment — whether it was accidental or intentional, but she found herself moving toward the mirror to get a better look at herself. She held her breath.

Wow.

She had grown. Quite a lot. And she was only just seeing it. Not physically but mentally.

Flashbacks crept in: the days when the sound of raindrops on her leaking roof would pull her into a quiet despair. And all she could do now was smile. She remembered how she had once refused to buy a mirror because she couldn't bear to look at herself. But standing in front of this one, Ammi could see it clearly — the woman she was becoming.

Not the flashy, polished, sophisticated woman that every girl dreamed of being. But something more real. A confident woman. A woman unfazed by the weight of the world's challenges. A woman who carried doubt and fear and dared to move forward anyway — wholly, without apology. A woman living on the edge of everything, and still content.

And though no one around her had seen it yet, she had. She was the first to behold it, this woman was meant for something far more, far bigger, far more beautiful and extraordinary than the room she stood in.

Day 1/30