The week passed like a blur of laughter, chalk dust, and scribbled notes.
Suzanne had almost mastered the art of pretending — smiling at the right time, joking when her friends did, hiding the fatigue that now clung to her like a shadow.
But some days, it was harder.
On Wednesday morning, she sat in history class, her eyes fixed on the board as Mr. Thomas's voice echoed faintly in the background. The letters on the board began to blur, the chalk lines dancing into a haze.
She blinked rapidly, gripping her pen tighter. Not now, she thought, willing the dizziness to fade.
Ryan leaned over from the next desk. "Hey, you okay? You look pale."
Suzanne forced a smile. "Just bored. This topic could put a dolphin to sleep."
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Suzanne."
She laughed, but the truth pressed behind her smile — the small headaches, the flashes of light, the way her hands sometimes trembled. None of it showed. None of it was allowed to.
---
During lunch, she sat with her friends in the courtyard again. The sun filtered softly through the trees, and someone was telling a story about a teacher's hilarious mispronunciation. Everyone laughed, and Suzanne did too — until her vision dimmed for a split second.
The laughter around her faded into a muffled hum. She steadied herself on the bench, breathing slowly.
It's okay. Breathe. Smile.
Ryan noticed again — just a flicker in her expression, but enough. He reached out, brushing his fingers against her wrist. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling quickly. "Just hungry. Mom made me skip breakfast."
Ryan studied her for a moment longer, unconvinced. But then, she winked and changed the topic, pulling the group back into laughter.
---
That evening, at home, Suzanne sat at her desk trying to finish her assignments. Her father knocked gently on the door.
"How's my superstar doing?"
"Drowning in algebra," she replied with a grin.
He stepped in, holding a cup of warm cocoa. "I thought you might need this."
Suzanne's eyes softened. "Thanks, Dad. You're the best."
He hesitated before speaking. "If you're tired, don't push yourself so hard. You can rest."
"I can't," she said quietly. "If I stop, I'll start thinking. And thinking… hurts."
Daniel nodded slowly. He didn't argue — he just placed the cup beside her and kissed her forehead. "Then keep going, my brave girl. But don't forget to breathe."
---
Later that night, Suzanne wrote another entry in her diary:
> "Everyone sees me laugh. No one sees me hold my breath between those laughs.
Maybe that's my power — to keep shining even when the light flickers."
She closed the book, turned off the lamp, and lay staring into the darkness.
Tomorrow would bring another day of laughter, another day of pretending — but somewhere in that laughter, Ryan's eyes would still be watching her closely, quietly connecting the dots she hoped would never form a picture.