Breaking Free: Love & Rebellion at Blackthorn Academy.-Chapter 58: PAST-SIXTEEN.

Hua Rong awoke from a restless, deep sleep, her mind swirling with fragmented thoughts. The sunlight crept through the curtains, cutting through the haze of her dreams and forcing her into the real world. She sat up, feeling the weight of her body, as if every limb were made of stone.

She dragged herself out of bed, her legs weak as she stepped out of the room. The quiet hum of the house was almost suffocating. In the kitchen, her mother stood by the counter, chopping vegetables with rhythmic precision. The soft tap-tap-tap of the knife filled the otherwise silent space, sharp and deliberate.

Her mother glanced up as Hua Rong entered the room, the knife still in her hand, and without pause, she spoke, "Why did you run away last night?"

Hua Rong's gaze shifted to the floor, her mind still reeling from the events. "I wasn't feeling well," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't face the truth. She couldn't face her mother.

The older woman didn't respond immediately, her eyes focusing on the vegetables she was slicing. After a moment, she added, "Everyone was looking forward to celebrating your birthday. The cake is still in the fridge."

But Hua Rong didn't care. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd felt joy over such things. It all seemed so distant now, so unimportant.

She moved past her mother to the bathroom, avoiding her gaze, but the weight of her mother's presence hung in the air like an unspoken question.

When Hua Rong came out, her eyes caught sight of something that sent a chill down her spine.

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Her mother was standing by the dining table, holding a knife—her knife. The one Hua Rong had used the night before.

She froze.

Her mother's voice was steady but filled with a quiet intensity. "Why is this in the drawer? Why did you take it?"

Hua Rong's breath hitched. She knew the truth, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. She quickly masked the panic rising in her chest, forcing her voice to remain calm. "I must've grabbed it by mistake last night while I was... swirling it," she said, the lie slipping off her tongue with the practiced ease of someone who'd told too many lies to count. "I didn't mean to."

Her mother's gaze never wavered, but she didn't press further. She only nodded, the silence in the room thick with unspoken words.

Hua Rong's heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't look at her mother anymore. She turned away, heading back to her room, her mind racing.

When she entered her room, the quiet of the house almost suffocated her. Her eyes fell on the calendar pinned to the wall. Her stomach dropped when she saw the date.

Today.

Xu Lingwei's competition.

His words echoed in her mind: "I want you to come." He had asked her, his voice full of hope, the same hope he had when he asked her to stop fighting.

But how could she face him now?

She wasn't the person he thought she was. She wasn't someone worthy of being by his side, not after what she'd done. The blood, the violence—it was too much for someone like her, too much for someone who had promised to change.

She stared at herself in the mirror, her eyes hollow, the weight of guilt pressing down on her chest. The knife was safely locked away now, but the truth was still cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

And she knew she couldn't go to him. Not now. Not when she was so broken inside.

....

Time felt like it was slipping away, each second more unbearable than the last. Hua Rong was supposed to be practicing archery, but her thoughts kept drifting. The bow in her hand felt foreign, her movements stiff and mechanical. She couldn't concentrate. The match had already started, and she hadn't even noticed when the time passed by.

She stole another glance at the clock, her heart sinking further. Why can't I focus? The thoughts swirled in her mind, each one more insistent than the last. Xu Lingwei's competition... She should be there, supporting him. But how could she, after everything?

Her distraction didn't go unnoticed. Jiang Zemin, who had been observing her from across the training field, walked over with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but probing.

She blinked, snapping out of her daze, and nodded quickly, hoping her unease wasn't too obvious. "Yeah," she said, but the words felt empty, even to her own ears.

"Where's your friend?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced around, looking for Xu Lingwei.

"In the competition," Hua Rong replied, her voice barely audible.

Jiang Zemin raised an eyebrow. "What competition?"

"Dancing," she murmured, the words feeling heavy in her chest.

"Dancing? Whoa, man, he's even good at that?" Jiang Zemin said, clearly surprised, his eyes widening in mild disbelief.

"Yeah, he is. He's... too good," Hua Rong replied, her voice trailing off. She couldn't bring herself to elaborate.

Jiang Zemin studied her for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful. "Aren't you going to see his competition?" he asked, his voice soft but direct.

Hua Rong hesitated, her gaze flickering to the clock again. The seconds felt like a countdown. "I'm not feeling well," she lied, her words feeling hollow even as they left her lips.

Jiang Zemin gave her a skeptical look, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure? Or is it that you can't go?"

She bit her lip, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You wouldn't understand," she muttered, her voice sharp.

Jiang Zemin didn't back down, his gaze steady as he looked at her. "Yeah, I won't understand," he said, his tone softening but still carrying an edge. "After all, the way you keep glancing at the clock..."

Hua Rong froze, her heart skipping a beat. He had seen it, hadn't he? Her desperation, her unwillingness to face what was happening. She quickly looked away, her hands trembling as she tried to focus on anything but Jiang Zemin's knowing gaze.

But she couldn't escape the truth. She wasn't just avoiding Xu Lingwei's competition; she was avoiding the weight of everything she had done and the crushing guilt that came with it. And no matter how hard she tried, it was always there, pressing down on her chest.