Threads of Hope

Chapter 7: The Breaking Point

Natalie stirred first, feeling the warmth of Nova's body against hers, their hands still intertwined beneath the blanket. A soft glow filtered through the curtains, casting the morning in a serene, quiet light. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and turned her head slightly, watching as Nova breathed softly beside her, her face calm, still tucked into the fabric of Natalie's shirt. For a brief moment, everything felt simple and peaceful, and Natalie let herself relax into the comfort of it.

But the day was just beginning, and reality would soon creep back in.

With a soft yawn, Nova stirred, her hand squeezing Natalie's gently before her eyes fluttered open. She smiled, groggy but content. "Morning," she whispered, her voice still raspy from sleep.

"Morning," Natalie replied, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the heaviness that still lingered in her chest. "Ready for a day of flier-making and revolution planning?"

Nova laughed lightly, the sound filling the quiet room. "Let's do it." She slowly untangled herself from Natalie, though her hand lingered for a moment longer before she sat up fully.

They spent the morning working together, surrounded by colorful paper and markers. Nova typed up some text for the club fliers while Natalie sketched out a rough logo—something bold that would catch people's attention. As the hours passed, the room filled with easy conversation, occasional jokes, and the comfortable rhythm of their friendship. For a while, Natalie felt good, hopeful even. They were doing something important, something that could change things for her and others like her.

Then her phone rang.

Natalie froze, her old, cracked phone vibrating on the edge of the table. She glanced at the screen and felt her heart drop. It was her father.

Her mind raced. He never calls. Not this early. Not ever, really.

Nova noticed the sudden change in Natalie's expression and immediately quieted, her eyes fixed on her friend, concern settling in. The phone buzzed again, insistent, and Natalie felt a wave of nausea rise in her chest. She swallowed hard and hesitated, but eventually, her finger tapped the screen, accepting the call.

"Hello?" Her voice came out shakier than she'd wanted, barely above a whisper.

On the other end of the line, a harsh voice erupted, loud enough that Nova could hear the anger even from across the room. It was her father—tired, furious, and sounding like he had smoked an entire pack of cigarettes that morning.

"You think I wouldn't find out, huh? You think you can just go around telling people about your poor, pitiful life, making me look like a piece of trash?" His words were slurred but sharp, venom dripping from every syllable. "Some kids came by this morning—wanted to know more about your stupid club. Knocked on my door and started talking like I knew what the hell they were going on about! Talking about how you're telling people you're neglected!"

Natalie sat in stunned silence, her grip tightening around the phone as her father's voice lashed out like a whip. He continued, his anger unchecked. "You're so damn dramatic, Natalie. You think you've got it so bad? You think you're special, huh? Seeking attention, making me out to be some kind of villain. You don't even know how good you have it here."

Each word sliced into her, but she kept her voice steady, refusing to argue, refusing to let him hear the way her hands were shaking. "Yes, sir," she muttered, trying to keep herself calm. She knew better than to fight back—it would only make things worse.

"Stop telling people your lies," he spat, his words growing more garbled as he puffed on his cigarette. "And stop embarrassing me. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered again, feeling smaller with each passing second. She just wanted it to end.

After what felt like an eternity, her father finally hung up, the line going dead in her hand. The silence that followed was suffocating. The phone slipped from her grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud.

Natalie's chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, the tears began to fall, hot and heavy. She curled in on herself, her hands trembling as the weight of her father's words crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Nova was by her side in an instant, pulling her into a tight embrace. She didn't say anything, just held Natalie close, letting her cry into her shoulder. Natalie clung to her as though she might shatter if she let go. The floodgates had opened, and all the frustration, fear, and helplessness that she'd been holding back for so long came pouring out. Her sobs echoed in the small room, and Nova whispered soft, comforting words, stroking her hair, her own heart aching for her friend.

For nearly half an hour, Natalie wept, all the pain she had buried deep inside spilling out. She was exhausted—exhausted from her father's neglect, from feeling trapped, from the hopelessness that came from not knowing how to escape. And yet, she couldn't stop the tears. She couldn't stop wishing that her life was different.

Eventually, the sobs quieted, and Natalie's body gave in to the fatigue. She drifted off to sleep, her head resting in Nova's lap, her breath evening out as exhaustion overtook her.

Nova sat there, holding Natalie gently, her heart heavy with worry. She wiped her eyes, fighting back her own tears as she watched her best friend sleep. Quietly, she pulled out her laptop and started researching ways they could get help, ways Natalie could escape her father's toxic hold. She searched for shelters, legal options, anything that might give them a way out. As she worked, her determination grew stronger. She wasn't going to let Natalie face this alone.

An hour later, Natalie stirred again, her eyes fluttering open. She sat up slowly, wiping the dried tears from her cheeks. There was a new clarity in her gaze, though—a steely resolve that hadn't been there before.

"I can't do this anymore," Natalie whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. "I need to get out."

Nova nodded, her expression gentle but firm. "Then we'll figure it out. We'll get you out of there."

Natalie swallowed hard, her mind racing with possibilities. "We need a plan. A runaway plan. Something... that'll get me out of his house for good."

Nova squeezed her hand, her determination matching Natalie's. "We'll do it together. We'll figure out everything."

And with that, the seed of an escape plan took root—a plan that would change everything.