I nodded anyway, because if I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure I could keep it together.
By the time I made it to my car, everything outside felt too bright, too loud—a jarring contrast against the restlessness that had settled inside me.
I shut the door, and the weight rushed in all at once, thick and suffocating. My hands stayed on the steering wheel, fingers tightening until the leather pressed into my palms.
The thought that I should’ve done more struck and clung. Regret followed as every moment replayed unbidden: the crossI missed, the objection I dropped, the hesitation I excused. Each cemented my sense of failure.
That one second where I could’ve gone further, should’ve gone further.
My chest tightened painfully, breath catching halfway in.
I was supposed to excel at this.My father’s voice never yelled. Instead it lingered, pressing persistently in my mind.
You chose this path.
Make it worth it.
My head throbbed, emotion rising suddenly, sharp enough to force me still.
Because I had chosen it. Chosen the pressure. Chosen the responsibility. Chosen to stand in rooms like that and carry outcomes that didn’t always bend toward fairness.
But today, it didn’t feel like a purpose.
I stood there, fully prepared, fully capable, yet still let someone down. I couldn’t separate the two. Because the truth sat heavier underneath it all: I had opportunities she didn’t. I had support. A family, even with their expectations and pressure, that stood behind me in ways he never had.
I had been given chances to succeed while she had been fighting just to exist. And I still couldn’t change the outcome.
Regardless of the internal war raging in my head, I put on a brave face and headed to pick up Harper, because life doesn’t stop just because your heart was breaking silently in your chest.
The school parking lot buzzed with noise: kids running, parents calling out names, doors slamming, laughter everywhere.
Harper spotted me and ran straight toward me, her backpack bouncing behind her, her smile wide and immediate. “Dani!”
She barreled into me, full force, no hesitation, causing the tension braced within me to ease instantly.
“Hey, superstar,” I murmured, holding her just a second longer than usual, clinging to the fleeting relief her presence brought.
“You’re late,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Court ran long.”
She nodded, as if that explained everything, because to her, it did.
“Can we get ice cream?” she asked immediately.
A soft, uneven laugh slipped out of me because, of course, her world still made sense.
And for a second, I wanted to live in that version of things where the biggest decision was whether to have ice cream before dinner, not whether someone lost everything.
But I couldn’t, not like this.
“Let’s go see Cami instead,” I said gently.
Her face lit up. “Yes!”
???
Cami opened the door before we even knocked.
