The next morning, I woke up utterly mortified by what had happened the night before.
Oh my God.
Why did I let that happen?
I actually cried in front of them.
I buried my face in the pillow with a groan.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
I'd promised myself I wouldn't spend this life hiding how I felt anymore.
So why was I panicking?
Because this was different.
These weren't strangers.
They were my parents.
I loved them.
Which meant what they thought of me mattered more than I wanted to admit.
What if they thought I was overdramatic?
What if they thought I was weak?
What if they started looking at me differently?
Yesterday I'd wanted them to understand.
Now I wished I could erase the whole thing.
I hated that.
I hated how desperate I still was for other people's approval.
I'd spent my previous life telling myself that one day I'd stop caring what everyone thought.
Then yesterday happened.
It really wasn't that simple.
Maybe it never would be.
My chest tightened.
In my previous life, care and comfort had never come completely free.
There had always been conditions.
Always a price.
Showing people your weakest moments usually came back to haunt you sooner or later.
So despite everything Frankie and Mike had said…
Despite how tightly they'd held me…
A small part of me couldn't stop wondering whether I'd just made the biggest mistake of my second life.
No.
I wasn't doing that again.
Yesterday had already been embarrassing enough.
I'd just tell them I was overwhelmed because of everything that had happened with Mr Hubert.
That was true.
Well…
Part of it was true.
I'd tell them I'd calmed down now.
That I was fine.
Then we'd all pretend none of it had happened.
Simple.
…Hopefully.
I got dressed, took a deep breath, and went out of my room.
The smell of toast and bacon greeted me before I even reached the kitchen.
"Morning, sweetheart," Frankie said, watching me a little too carefully.
"Morning."
Mike looked up from his newspaper.
"How are you feeling?"
There it was.
The question I'd been dreading.
"I'm okay."
Neither of them looked convinced.
"I was just… really upset about everything yesterday." I shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I guess it all caught up with me. I just needed to cry for a bit. I'm fine now."
Frankie opened her mouth.
Before she could say anything, I quickly looked towards the television.
"Oh! Did they finally announce the scores from last night's game?"
Mike instinctively turned his head towards the TV.
"They did?"
He frowned, trying to read the scrolling results.
Frankie shot him a pointed look.
Mike froze halfway through reaching for the remote.
Right.
Wrong topic.
He glanced back at me, clearly about to say something else.
At exactly that moment I looked towards the hallway.
"Has anyone seen Axl? We're going to miss the bus if he doesn't wake up."
Frankie blinked.
Then looked at the clock.
"Oh, for goodness' sake!"
She immediately jumped to her feet.
"Axl! Get in here! I already woke you up three times! Don't make me come to your room and physically push you out of bed!"
A muffled groan echoed from down the hallway.
"Ugh… stop shouting! I'm awake! It's just too early!"
A minute later, Axl dragged himself into the kitchen like a zombie.
Without saying a word, he headed straight for the fridge.
"Where's my food?" he complained.
"You missed breakfast." Frankie grabbed the first thing she saw in the fridge and shoved it into his hands. "Here. Drink this. Milk is healthy."
"This isn't food."
"Even better. You don't have to waste time chewing. Now go put a shirt on. Walking around in your underwear is not an outfit."
"Axl, at least get a glass," Mike said without looking up from his newspaper.
Brick wandered through the kitchen with his nose buried in a book.
"Brick," Frankie warned.
"I'm walking and reading."
"Well, stop doing one of those!"
Then she turned back towards me.
"…Sue…"
No.
Not now.
Please, not now.
"Mom."
She looked at me.
"Axl's drinking straight from the bottle again."
Axl slowly looked at me.
Then, maintaining eye contact the entire time, he deliberately licked the rim of the bottle.
"Mom!"
"Seriously?" Frankie snatched the bottle out of his hands. "Axl!"
He grinned.
"Now put a shirt on!"
"I'm wearing jeans."
"Jeans are not a shirt!"
Axl sighed dramatically before wandering off.
"Mike, stop hiding behind that newspaper and help me!"
"The kids seem to have everything under control," he replied.
"They absolutely do not!"
A few seconds later Axl reappeared wearing a T-shirt.
Inside out.
Frankie pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I'm choosing to ignore that."
Within seconds, the kitchen had dissolved into its usual morning chaos.
Brick had somehow interpreted "stop doing one of those" as permission to stop walking instead of stop reading and was now sitting on the floor with his book open.
Axl was trying to drink his milk while pulling on his trainers.
Mike quietly continued reading his newspaper as though none of this had anything to do with him.
Frankie hurried all of us towards the front door before we were officially late.
Halfway there, she suddenly gasped.
"The lunches!"
She looked at the clock.
"…You'll survive! Steal someone else's chips!"
Then she practically shoved us out of the house before we could argue.
And just like that…
The conversation was gone.
I followed everyone outside, quietly letting out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.
Crisis avoided.
After a lifetime of practice, compartmentalising had become second nature.
Smile.
Deflect.
Keep moving.
Walk away before anyone notices you're still carrying the weight.
Even though I hated it…
Sometimes, being invisible could be a useful superpower.