Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 53 - SILENCE IS THE LOUDEST NOISE

-----Betty-----

Breakfast felt heavy.

The smell of burnt garlic lingered in the air, but I wasn’t hungry. I poked at the eggs with my fork, watching the yolk bleed slowly into the rice. My dad sat at the head of the table, flipping through his phone like it owed him something. Claire was across from me, dressed like she was about to head into a board meeting. Polished. Perfect. Out of place.

“Betts,” Dad said finally, eyes still on his screen. “What’s with that look?”

I didn’t answer right away. I knew what he meant. The eyeliner. The dark lipstick. The oversized shirt that hung like armor. My boots were muddy from yesterday’s walk, and I hadn’t bothered to fix the tear in my tights. I didn’t look like the girl who used to sit here, bright-eyed and soft-spoken.

“I like it,” I said, keeping my voice flat.

A beat passed. Then I muttered under my breath, “Why do you care?”

Claire stirred her tea a little louder than necessary. “B… your dad’s just concerned.”

I stood up so fast my chair scraped the floor. “Shut up. You’re not my mom.”

Her eyes widened. Dad slammed his phone down.

“Elizabeth Marie Finn!” he shouted. “Don’t you disrespect Claire like that! Come back here!”

But I didn’t. I didn’t even flinch. I just walked to the door, grabbed my bag, and left. Let the slam of the door say the rest for me. The walk to school felt like trudging through wet cement. Everything about this morning dragged. My boots were stiff. My sleeves felt too long. The straps of my bag dug into my shoulders in a way they never had before, like even it was tired of me. The sun was annoyingly bright, the kind that pretends it's gentle but blinds you the moment you look up. I kept my head down. Not because I was hiding, at least that’s what I told myself, but because I was done offering people pieces of me to stare at. By the time I reached the school gates, the usual crowd was already there, clusters of friends, arms linked, backpacks slung over one shoulder, jokes flying too easily through the air. I felt like I was moving underwater, watching everything happen from behind glass. Then a voice cut through the fog.

“Betty.”

Soft. Familiar. Firm.

I paused but didn’t look up right away. Of course she’d find me. Inez stood by the base of the old tree near the gate, the same one we used to sit under during breaktime. Her braid was neat, her collar crisp, her shoes unscuffed. Everything about her screamed balance. Even her worry looked graceful.

She took a few steps toward me, hands tucked into the pockets of her skirt. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t,” I muttered.

She walked beside me, syncing her pace with mine like she always did. It used to comfort me. Now it just made me ache.

“I don’t know if I like this new... edgier version of you,” she said quietly, not looking at me. “But you’re still my best friend.”

I stopped walking. Turned to her. “You think it’s a phase?”

She shook her head. “I think it’s pain in disguise. And anger in combat boots.”

That made me huff out a breath, half a laugh. Inez always had a way of cutting through my defenses with metaphorical logic.

“I think you’re trying to wear your hurt on the outside,” she added. “So people stop asking how you are.”