Caroline gripped the ivory piece in her hand and felt a surge of jealousy. This chess piece could simply ignore the same path everyone else took. It could slip diagonally between the patterns, like a child colouring outside the lines to design their own picture.
They’d always told her she was a prodigy, but her life felt more like that of a pawn than a bishop—forever following the path her parents set, with no choices of her own.
But at four years old, who didn’t?
She popped her lollipop back in her mouth and made the move: knight to F3.