Healing hearts

chapter 7

The slow healing

Days turned into weeks, and though the pain didn’t vanish, something had shifted. It wasn’t as unbearable as before. The darkness still crept in, but now, there was a tiny flicker of light. A voice in her head—one that sounded suspiciously like Sydney’s—reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

Sydney never left her side. She sat with her at lunch, walked with her to class, sent her good morning texts even when she didn’t respond. She didn’t always know what to say, but she didn’t have to. Her presence was enough.

One afternoon, as they sat together on the bleachers after school, Sydney nudged her gently. “You ever talk to anyone about... y’know, how you feel?”

Her stomach twisted. “No.”

Sydney nodded, as if she already knew the answer. “You should.”

She shook her head. “They wouldn’t get it.”

Sydney sighed. “Maybe. But they might surprise you.”

She didn’t respond. The idea of opening up to her family felt impossible. They never noticed her struggles before—why would they start now?

But the thought lingered in the back of her mind.

A Night of Truth

That evening, she sat at the dinner table, picking at her food. Her parents were talking about work, her sister laughing at something on her phone. It was the same as always.

Except tonight, she couldn’t take it anymore.

She set her fork down. “Can I say something?”

The table went silent. Three pairs of eyes turned to her, and suddenly, her throat felt tight. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she should just say never mind and go back to pretending.

But then she remembered Sydney’s words. "They might surprise you."

She took a shaky breath. “I’ve been... struggling.”

Her mom frowned. “With what?”

Her hands trembled under the table. She could still back out. She could still lie.

But she was tired of lying.

“With everything.”****“With myself.”

Her dad’s face was unreadable. Her sister looked concerned. Her mom’s expression softened. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She swallowed hard. “Because I thought you wouldn’t care.”

Her mom’s eyes filled with something she hadn’t seen in a long time—guilt.

“Sweetheart, of course we care.”

Her dad cleared his throat. “I know we don’t always show it, but we love you. We just... we didn’t know.”

Her sister reached for her hand under the table, squeezing it. “You’re not alone in this.”

Tears burned in her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she believed them yet. But for the first time, they were looking at her—really looking at her.

And maybe that was a start.

That Night

She texted Sydney.

Me: "I told them."

Sydney’s reply was instant.

Sydney: "And?"

Me: "They actually listened."

Sydney: "I told you. People care more than you think."

She let out a small breath.

Maybe they did.

Maybe—just maybe—things could get better.