That evening, Downstairs, Kingsley sat on the sofa, his dinner untouched, slowly going cold. The quiet clink of Lara's bangles accompanied her as she stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.
"She said Bob picked her up ," Kingsley muttered, not looking up. "Didn't even let me picked her up in the afternoon. I just…" His throat tightened. "I wanted to be there."
Lara paused, her expression softening. "I know." She walked over and lowered herself into the chair beside him. "But maybe she needed someone who knows what coming back feels like. Bob didn't take your place, Kingsley… he just filled a space she couldn't let you into. Not yet."
He glanced at her, bitterness flickering behind his eyes. "Why do you always know the right thing to say?"
She smirked, gently. "Doctor's instinct. Or maybe I just pay attention."
Kingsley shook his head, voice lowering. "Still… I'm not comfortable with how close they are. I don't trust him." His hands clenched slightly. "He's too… out there. I don't want Divine picking up ideas from someone who's still figuring himself out."
Lara gave him a look. "You mean someone who wears heels and female dress and speaks his mind?"
"I mean someone who doesn't know where to draw the line," he said tightly. "He's… unpredictable."
"She trusts him," Lara replied calmly. "And right now, that's what matters."
---
At the dining table, Joseph was already halfway through a bowl of chin-chin, kicking his legs under the chair like he'd won a prize. Divine came downstairs quietly, heading toward the water dispenser.
He perked up instantly. "Sooo…" he said, drawing out the word dramatically as he leaned forward. "Did you find it?"
Divine blinked. "Find what?"
He grinned wide, a piece of chin-chin stuck to his lip. "The badge."
Divine paused, then let out the smallest of weird laughs. "You're annoying."
"But did it work?" he asked, eyes hopeful, expectant.
She glanced at him, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. It worked."
Joseph raised his hand for a high-five. "I'm a genius."
Divine stared at it, then rolled her eyes—but gave him a small slap of her palm anyway
Later that night, the house had grown quiet. Kingsley was in bed, Lara's soft footsteps had faded down the hall, and the only light in Divine's room came from the screen of her phone.
She lay curled on her side, hugging a pillow, phone resting against her chest. Her phone screen lit up with a new message from Bob.
Bob:
> "Sooo… how was it? Rich kids dramatic? Anyone try to mess with my baby girl?"
A tired smile tugged at Divine's lips. She pressed the record button and whispered into her phone, her voice barely above a breath.
Divine (voice note):
> "It was... weird. Cold. I didn't really talk to anyone.
I... I.... kinda walked into the dance room without noticing. I didn't dance though. Just stood there."
Her voice cracked slightly, then flattened.
"Not great."
Bob:
> You entered the dance room?!! Babe that's a win 🥹 let me pull out my heels real quick. I'm coming for your crown 😌💅."
Divine stared at the screen for a while, then typed.
Divine:
"What's great about it? It's not like I can even dance. Not really. Not anymore."
Bob:
> "You can."
You just don't want to let yourself try yet."
" And It's okay, Diva. You don't have to rush it. You'll get there. No rush. Not from me."
"Just the fact that you walked in means something. Means maybe part of you still wants it."
Divine stared at the screen. Her thumb hovered before she typed back:
"or Maybe I'm just lost. Just… empty."
I don't even know if I want to anymore. What if I try and just… break again?
Bob was typing… then paused. Then typing again.
Bob:
"Then you try. And if you break, we patch you up. That's what I'm here for, remember?"
"Even if you only ever do one pirouette and call it a day, it's still yours."
"And you weren't lost"
"Empty doesn't mean broken, love. Sometimes it means you're making space. For new things. New people. New joy. You'll feel again."
Divine didn't reply immediately. She just stared at her screen, her fingers tracing the faint scar on her wrist
Bob (a few minutes later):
> "I'm proud of you. Even if all you did was breathe today. That's enough."
Still no reply
Then bob sent another message
"You found the badge, didn't you?"
"Joseph would be screaming right now if he knew it worked."
Divine let out a small laugh, barely audible.
Divine:
"He's such a little menace. I should hide his soccer cleats."
Bob:
"You better not! That's the only child you like more than me."
Divine:
"Mmmm. Still deciding."
He asked me if it worked, she typed.
I told him yes. And I meant it.
I think I want to try, Bob. Slowly. But not just for me.
Bob:
"Trying is enough. You're doing it already."
"Jokes aside… you were brave today."
"Even if you don't feel it, I'm proud of you."
There it was again—the lump in her throat. That familiar ache she didn't want to name. She typed slowly.
Divine:
"Thanks. That… means more than I can say."
Then she locked her phone and lay back, staring at the ceiling.
The badge still sat on her school bag by the door—glittery, lopsided, ridiculous.
But for the first time, she didn't pull it off.
She exhaled slowly. It had taken so much just to walk into the building that morning. But Joseph had believed in her. Enough to make a badge. Enough to sneak it onto her bag and wave goodbye like everything was still normal.
She couldn't be okay for herself yet.
But maybe, she could try for him.
Divine turned off her phone and rolled onto her back. For the first time in a while, she didn't feel like the silence was swallowing her. Just holding her.
Joseph believed.
Bob believed.
And maybe—just maybe—one day, she would too.
-----
That night, Lara knocked gently on Divine's door.
She opened it just a little, peeking in. "You still awake?"she called softly, her voice like a thread in the quiet house.
Divine hesitated then she looked up from her bed. "Barely.....come in."
Lara stepped in gently, holding a tray with a bottle of water and a small capsule case. and a soft smile. "I thought I'd check on you. Brought your stuff."
She placed it on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. Divine was curled up on one side, the glow of her lamp reflecting in her tired eyes.
"You don't have to talk if you don't feel like it," Lara said.
There was a long pause. Then, Divine murmured, "I… I joined the dance group."
Lara blinked. "You… really?"
"I didn't dance...dance....i didn't perform or anything. I just… walked in. Looked around."
Lara's voice softened, like a hand smoothing wrinkles from fabric. "That's still huge." her hands clasped in her lap. "It's a big step. Bigger than you think."
Divine shrugged, then stared at her hands. "It felt… quiet. Like the room was holding its breath. I didn't cry, I didn't panic.I thought I'd feel something—when I walked in. But it was mostly just… quiet. Not bad. Just… it didn't feel like before either. I kept thinking about how much has changed."
Lara nodded slowly. "It's okay if it doesn't feel like before. You're not who you were before."
Divine swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes I don't even know who I am now."
Lara reached out and gently squeezed her hand. "You're someone who still shows up, even when it's hard. Someone who's trying. And that counts."
Lara reached out, gently touching Divine's wrist. "Things don't have to go back to how they were. Sometimes they can become something new. And maybe even better."
Divine was quiet. Then: "Sometimes I wonder if I'm just broken now."
Lara's heart ached. "You're not broken. You're healing. That's different."
"I hate that it still hurts," Divine whispered. "I hate that I'm scared all the time. I smile for Joseph. I pretend for everyone. But inside, it's still burning."
Lara's voice didn't waver. "That pain you feel—it's grief. It's trauma. It's your mind and body remembering the fire even when it's gone. It takes time. And therapy helps, but it's not a magic switch."
Divine's eyes welled up, but no tears fell. "Do you ever think… that maybe I shouldn't have made it out?"
Lara moved closer, her face steady. "No. Never. You survived something that should've destroyed you. That's not weakness, Divine. That's power. That's purpose."
Divine finally met her eyes. "It doesn't feel like power. It feels like weight."
"Then let the people who love you help carry it," Lara said gently. "You don't owe the world a recovery story. You just owe yourself patience."
Divine's voice cracked. "What if I'm never the same?"
"You won't be," Lara said. "But that doesn't mean who you become won't be beautiful too."
A long silence settled between them, full of things unsaid but deeply felt.
Lara placed the vitamins in her hand. "Take these. Keep your body strong, even when your heart is tired."
Divine nodded slowly, whispering, "Thank you… for not giving up on me."
"I never will," Lara said. "I didn't just promise your mother I'd watch over you. I love you, Divine. And love stays—even in silence."
She stood, kissed Divine's forehead, and turned off the light.
As the door clicked shut, Divine lay still. Her chest hurt, but it wasn't the sharp kind—it was the ache that came with being truly seen.
She stared into the dark, her thoughts soft.
Maybe, just maybe… she didn't have to fight alone anymore