Maya climbed onto the bronze step. She looked down at the windows — stacked like giant books.
Her shoulders slumped. She was too small to reach the desk. 'I want to help,' she thought.
She pushed a wooden chair toward the desk. It wobbled. It squeaked. Her lips pressed into a thin line.
Maya tried again with a yellow highlighter. She set it carefully, but it tumbled and rolled under a shelf.
She reached, but her fingers missed. A soft sigh escaped her.
Maya stared at the puzzle. Pieces were scattered everywhere. She picked up a red piece and tried again.
She tried one spot, then another. A soft click echoed. Her eyebrows knit, then smoothed.
Maya finished the rocket. She held her tablet and tapped her mom's face on the screen. 'I did it!' she said.
The mom on the screen grinned. They both laughed — a quiet, bubbly sound.
Maya leaned her head against the tablet. Her mom smiled back. The rocket was ready to launch.
