Chapter 39 Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter 39 Chapter Thirty Nine
A soft knock pulled me from sleep. I blinked against the morning light spilling through my curtains, groggy and disoriented.

“Mira? “You up, baby?” Aunt Ruth’s voice came through the door, warm and familiar.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “Come in.”

She pushed the door open, still in her church dress, Bible tucked under one arm and a bright smile on her face.

“Just got back from service. The pastor really outdid himself today.” She pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. “He talked about not letting yesterday’s storms steal tomorrow’s sunshine. Spoke right to my spirit.”

I forced a smile. 

“That sounds good. I’ll come with you next Sunday, I promise.”

Her face lit up. She crossed the room and perched on the edge of my bed, squeezing my hand. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear! I’ll hold you to it.” She paused, eyes sparkling. “How about a pizza date this afternoon? We can get extra cheese, watch something silly, and forget the world for a bit.”

My chest warmed for a second, but I shook my head. “I wish I could. I have a tutoring session.”

“Girl.” She shook her head, half laughing. “You work more than I do and I’m supposed to be the grown one here. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

“I know.” I managed a small smile. 

“I’m going to fix you some breakfast. Scrambled eggs sound good?”

I nodded, She left, and I sank back against my pillow, staring at the ceiling, my mind drifting straight back to last night. The way Nat had sat at the dinner table with his head down the entire time, barely speaking or eating his food. The tension had been so thick I could barely swallow my food. Every time our eyes accidentally met, he looked away like I was something poisonous. The version of his father from the kitchen didn’t match the version I had learned to expect, he surely loves his family and wants the best for them.

Aunt Ruth returned a few minutes later with a plate of fluffy scrambled eggs and a glass of orange juice, setting them carefully on my nightstand.

“Here you go, baby. Eat up.”

I took the plate but set the juice aside. “Can I have water instead?”

“I’d actually prefer water.”

“Water? Why? The juice is fresh.” She tilted her head, studying me.

“That’s just what I prefer.” I shrugged, keeping my voice light.

She gave me a long look, like she wasn’t fully satisfied with the answer, but eventually nodded and went to get it. When she returned, I thanked her quietly and took a sip. She hovered for another second before leaving. 

I pulled out my books after eating, stacking them on my desk. I set an alarm for four hours, slapped the “Do Not Disturb” sign Mom had gotten on the outside of my door, and switched my phone to airplane mode. I studied straight through, numbers and notes blurring together, until the alarm finally cut through the quiet.

One o’clock exactly.

I stretched, yawning wide as I headed downstairs. The kitchen smelled amazing. Aunt Ruth and Mom were at the counter, chopping vegetables and stirring something on the stove, laughing about some story from church.

“My precious baby!” Mom spotted me first. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and pulled me into a tight hug, rocking me side to side. “Come sit. Lunch is ready.”

She served me pasta with rich bolognese sauce, and the three of us ate together, trading stories that turned into laughter more than once, the kind of easy afternoon I hadn’t had in weeks.

Then I found myself blurting out, “Do you think I’ll lose weight?”

Mom and Aunt Ruth exchanged a quick glance. Mom set her fork down. “Baby, is someone bullying you at school?”

“No,” I said quickly, pushing pasta around my plate. “It’s just… you see kids my age. They look different. Better.”

Neither of them answered right away, Mom reached across the table and grabbed my hand. I finished eating in silence, then stood and carried my plate to the dishwasher. 

“Thanks for lunch. It was really good.”

Mom reached for me before I could get far, wrapping her arms around me tightly, chin resting on my head.

“I love you.” Her voice wobbled, tears she was clearly fighting back. “You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life.”

I felt her hold back tears. I nodded against her shoulder and slipped upstairs before mine could start.

I had just pulled out my laptop from my bag when Aunt Ruth stepped in with a bowl.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded, and she handed me a bowl of fresh fruits before settling onto the edge of my bed.

“I was bullied too, you know. Back in school.” She said it plainly, no drama attached. “I felt like I wasn’t good enough for years. Missed out on so much just trying to disappear.”

“I was bullied pretty badly in school,” she said quietly, eyes distant. “Felt like I was never good enough. Too tall,too loud. I shrunk and missed so much of my own school years because I was hiding. I don’t want that for you.” She reached over and squeezed my knee.

“Confidence is inside you, Bel. You can be the most beautiful girl in the room, but if you don’t have confidence, you won’t even know it. It’s acting like no one is watching. Wearing the dress you love, laughing loud like no one is watching. Living the life that makes you happy. Don’t hold back because one day you’ll look back and wish you had done all those things.”

She stood, brushing a hand over my hair. “I want to see that confidence, Mirabel. That happy child I know is still right there. Don’t let the world take your light.”

Her words settled deep in my chest long after she left. I moved to the mirror, hands folding over my tummy, tracing the soft line of my double chin. No matter how much I tried, exercise always seemed to make things worse. I closed my eyes, took a slow breath, and repeated my daily affirmations under my breath.

Then I grabbed my phone, switched it off airplane mode, and set my laptop up on the desk, straightening everything until it looked ready for the session.

I switched my phone off airplane mode and settled into my desk chair, making sure everything was ready for the session. 

Thirty minutes later, Sloane’s face filled the screen.

“Ready?” I asked, pulling up yesterday’s notes.

“Ready.” She grinned, already flipping open her notebook.

We moved through the material easy, her answering my questions from last week’s lesson without much hesitation, the two of us falling into the same comfortable rhythm. It felt good to focus on something I could control.

She asked good questions back, the kind that told me she was actually thinking about the material instead of just repeating it.

My phone buzzed partway through, an unfamiliar number lighting up the screen. I silenced it and kept going.

It buzzed again near the end of the session, and Sloane caught me glancing at it.

“Someone popular today.” She grinned, already closing her notebook. “I’m certain-sure that’s the fifth time it’s rung since we started.”

“Just persistent, apparently.” I managed a small laugh, sliding the phone face down again.

“Well, I got through the whole worksheet without messing up, so I’d call that a win.” She held her notebook up to the camera, proud of the neat rows of answers. “See you Wednesday?”

“Yeah, Wednesday,” I smiled. “Great work today, Sloane.”

“Bye, Mira!” She waved, bright and easy, and the call disconnected a second later.

I picked up the second the screen went dark.

“Cupcake.”

I froze.

“Dad? Is that you?”

“Yes, baby.”