Under the Stars

Chapter 28

~CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT~

MONDAY, APRIL 20,2025

   When we woke up from the farewell night camp, our professor told us we will have a short vacation or should I say preparing for the graduation.We took care of our things and make sure we don't left anything. Carl insisted to help even though I told him not to.

  Once I got home I was greeted not with warmth but with the familiar coldness of my aunt's disapproval. She stood in the living room, arms crossed, a disapproving glare fixed on me.

"What is it I heard?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "That you asked Mary to make you an artwork? Don't tell me it's for your silly dream again?You seriously sneak out for that camp and now this??"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Aunt, I have a book coming out this year and I need artwork for it-"

"Are you serious, Lyla?" she interrupted, her tone incredulous. "You really expect you're going to make something of yourself as an author?"

I hesitated, feeling the weight of her words. "It's not just a dream, Aunt. I believe in this."

"So you're going to waste your money on that?" Her voice grew louder, sending shivers down my spine. "You're going to give up on our business for some fantasy?"

"Aunt, I'm not giving up on our business," I insisted, my voice shaking. "I just want to pursue this too."

"It's a useless dream, Lyla," she spat, her eyes cold. "You should be focusing on real things, practical things."

Before I could respond, my mother entered the room, her expression disappointed. "Lyla, how could you think of wasting money on something like this? You know how hard we've worked to build our business."

Tears welled up in my eyes as their words hit me like a barrage. "It's not a waste, Mom. Writing is what I love."

"You need to grow up and stop dreaming," my aunt retorted sharply.

But before I knew it I rush out of the house and stood in front of Carl's house, my heart pounding against my ribs. The world felt heavy, and I wasn't okay. I hadn't been okay for a while, but today felt different. It felt unbearable.

I reached up to ring the doorbell, hesitating for a moment. What if Carl's mom thought I was being dramatic again? What if Carl wasn't even home? Before I could overthink it any further, the door swung open.

"Lyla," Sophie said, her eyes softening as she took in my disheveled appearance. "Come in, dear."

I stepped inside, feeling the warmth of their home wrap around me like a comforting blanket. Sophie led me to the living room, where I sank into the plush sofa, fighting back tears.

"Carl will be home soon," she said, sitting down next to me. "He just went out to grab a few things."

I nodded, unable to speak. Sophie placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, offering silent support. The kindness in her touch made my resolve crumble, and I started to cry.

"It's okay, Lyla," she whispered, pulling me into a hug. "You're safe here."

I clung to her, my tears soaking her blouse. Sophie held me, not asking any questions, just letting me cry until there were no tears left. When I finally pulled away, she handed me a tissue.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.

I shook my head. Talking about it felt too raw, too painful. Sophie nodded, understanding.

"Why don't you rest for a bit?" she suggested. "I'll make you some tea."

I managed a small smile. "Thank you,"