At six in the morning, the world is completely still. The house is wrapped in soft light and silence when I descend the stairs, taking thirty steps to the desk wedged comfortably between a bookcase and the wall. This is the stillness of an hour before my mother plays Bloomberg Radio and puts the kettle on, marking the official start of a school day. This is where my day really begins. Knowing that in just under two hours I’ll...

“I can barely see anything,” I say, and the panic is clear in my voice. Mom rolls ahead of me on her bike, and I pedal furiously to keep up with her. I wouldn’t have been able to swerve in time to avoid hidden obstacles on the path, but there is a reason why Mom decided to take the lead. “Me neither,” she calls back. “But we’re almost there!” The only light source comes from cars on the...