Silver Lining ❥ daerin

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟖: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐔𝐩

𝕮𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖆

The clock on my desk blinked 2:47 p.m., its neon-green numbers casting an accusatory glow across the room. A pile of untouched envelopes sat on one side, a laptop buzzing faintly on the other. The monotony of paperwork and online forms felt so out of sync with the life I was supposed to be leading right now—a life in Monaco, already immersed in training with some of the best minds in motorsport. Instead, I was here, still in Forbes Park, struggling to catch up.

The crash had been weeks ago, but its impact stretched far beyond the bruises and fractured confidence. My travel had been postponed while I recovered, and the world of racing didn't wait. The program at Monaco continued without me, my absence a glaring blank spot in a cohort of fiercely driven competitors. I'd heard from a few peers—brief texts checking in, updates about what I'd missed, subtle reminders that I wasn't there.

"Calista," Mum called from downstairs. "Lunch is ready!"

I didn't answer immediately. My stomach churned at the thought of food, my focus consumed by the email on my screen. It was a detailed update on the training modules I needed to complete before leaving. Physical conditioning, simulations, debrief sessions—I was already behind on all of it.

Sighing, I pushed away from the desk and dragged myself downstairs. Mum had set the table with one of my favourites, chicken schnitzel with mashed potatoes and gravy, but the smell that usually made my mouth water barely registered.

"You're still not eating properly," she said, frowning as I poked at the food.

"I'm trying, Mum," I replied, my voice sharper than I intended. Guilt flared in her eyes, and I softened. "It's just... there's so much to do. I'm weeks behind, and everyone else is already miles ahead."

"You've been through a lot," she said gently, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "You can't expect to bounce back immediately."

"But I have to," I said, setting my fork down. "If I don't, what's the point of going? They'll think I'm weak, that I can't handle it. And maybe they're right."

Mum shook her head. "You're anything but weak, Calista. Look at everything you've overcome just to get here. You're allowed to take time to recover. The people who matter will understand that."

Her words were comforting, but they didn't erase the weight pressing down on me. After lunch, I went back to my room, determined to finish at least one of the training modules.

The first simulation was brutal. The program mimicked a challenging circuit with tight corners and unpredictable elevation changes. My hands hovered over the controls, hesitation creeping in as I remembered the crash. What if I couldn't handle this anymore?

I clenched my jaw and hit start. The car roared to life on the screen, and for a moment, I felt that old spark—the thrill, the connection to the machine. But as I approached the first corner, my grip faltered, and I overcorrected. The simulation ended with a loud crash, the car spinning off track.

"Damn it!" I shouted, ripping off the headset and throwing it onto the desk.

The door creaked open, and Dad stepped in, his brow furrowed. "Everything all right?"

"No, everything's not all right," I snapped. "I can't even get through a bloody simulation without crashing. How am I supposed to race in real life?"

Dad crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed, his calm presence grounding me despite my frustration. "You know, when I was starting out in business, I made more mistakes than I can count. Every time, I thought, 'That's it, I've ruined everything.' But it wasn't about the mistakes—it was about what I did after them."