Monday morning felt like the first page of a new chapter in Suzanne's life — one she wasn't sure how to write yet.
The sky was clear, the air smelled of rain-soaked earth, and for the first time in days, she smiled at her reflection.
"Let's not look sick today," she whispered to herself, brushing her hair into soft waves.
Her mother peeked in from the doorway. "You sure you're up for school, honey?"
Suzanne nodded. "I need to be there, Mom. I need to feel normal."
Her father handed her the lunchbox with a reassuring smile. "Text me if you feel dizzy, okay?"
"I will," she said, though she wasn't planning to.
---
At school, everything looked the same — the chatter in the corridors, the rush before the bell, the smell of chalk and old books. Yet to Suzanne, it all felt different now, like she was watching her life from a distance.
Ryan spotted her at her locker and waved dramatically. "Look who finally remembered school exists!"
Suzanne laughed. "Excuse me, I was just taking a short vacation from you."
Ryan pretended to look hurt. "Ouch. My heart."
"Don't worry," she said with a grin. "It'll survive."
They walked to class together, joking like always. But Ryan noticed something — her smile was bright, yet her eyes seemed tired. He didn't say anything, though. Not yet.
---
At lunch, Suzanne joined her friends under the old banyan tree in the school courtyard. They laughed about silly things — who failed the math test, who tripped during assembly — and for a while, Suzanne forgot everything else.
When her laughter faded, she looked at her friends one by one and thought, They have no idea.
The bell rang, and everyone rushed back to class. Ryan lingered behind.
He looked at the spot where Susan had been sitting and frowned. Something about her laughter — it felt like she was trying too hard.
"Hey, Captain Suzanne," he muttered to himself. "What are you hiding?"
---
That evening, Suzanne walked home slowly, feeling the ache behind her eyes. Her father's car passed by; he stopped and rolled down the window.
"Need a lift?" he asked, smiling.
She nodded gratefully and slid in beside him. The warmth of the car felt comforting.
"You look tired," he said gently.
"I'm fine, Dad. Just… math."
Daniel chuckled. "The scariest illness of all."
She smiled, leaning her head against the window. "Thanks, Dad. For everything."
He didn't ask what she meant. He just drove — quietly, protectively.
---
That night, as Suzanne wrote in her diary, her words shimmered with hope and fear all at once:
> "Today, I laughed. And for a little while, I almost believed I was okay."
She closed the diary, looked at the stars outside her window, and whispered,
"One day at a time."
But deep down, she knew — Ryan was beginning to notice, and the walls she'd built around her secret were only growing thinner.