After the event, laughter filled the bus as students packed up for the return trip. Mrs. Natacha gave out hugs, Peter and Emma teased Olivia for her shy smile, and the camera flashes painted moments of triumph.
Outside the school gate, Peter's mother had come to pick him up. She was cheerful and warm as always. "You did well, son!" she said proudly, then turned to Olivia. "And you too, dear. You must be so proud of yourself."
Olivia smiled politely. "Thank you, ma."
Then Peter's mother (Susan)glanced at her son. "Peter, why don't you drop Olivia off at home? I'll ride with Mrs. James—she offered me a lift."
Peter grinned. "Sure thing, Mom."
"Drive safe," his mother said, handing him the car keys. "And don't forget to thank her parents for raising such a brilliant girl."
They both laughed softly, waving as she left. Peter opened the passenger door for Olivia. "Your chauffeur awaits."
She smiled faintly. "Don't get used to it."
The drive home was quiet. The sky had turned pale pink, the sun melting behind city rooftops. Olivia rested her head against the window, thinking of her mother—wondering why she hadn't shown up.
When they pulled into her driveway, John's car was already there. Olivia's eyes brightened. "Dad's home!" she said, her tone suddenly lighter.
Peter parked and smiled. "That's good. He'll want to hear all about the trophy."
Olivia jumped out of the car, trophy in hand, and ran toward the front door. "Thanks, Peter! Wait for me a sec—I'll be right back."
She burst through the door. "Dad!" she called, holding up the trophy like a crown.
John appeared from the living room, his smile spreading wide. "My champion!" he exclaimed, arms open. "You did it!"
She hugged him tightly. "We won, Dad. We actually won!"
"I knew you would," he said proudly. But his eyes… they carried something else—something she couldn't quite place. A shadow beneath the joy.
When they pulled apart, Olivia noticed the house. The air felt… different. Too still. The vase that usually sat by the window was gone. The framed family picture from the hallway table wasn't there. And when she glanced toward the stairs, she noticed her mother's favorite red scarf missing from the hook by the door.
"Dad…" she said slowly. "Where's Mom?"
John's smile faltered. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. "She's… at the hospital. Work's been really busy lately."
But Olivia's sharp eyes caught the hesitation. She stepped closer. "That's not true, is it?"
John sighed deeply. His shoulders slumped as though the weight of years pressed down on him. "I didn't want to tell you until after your competition," he said quietly. "I wanted you to stay focused."
Her heartbeat quickened. "Tell me what, Dad?"
He swallowed hard, his voice barely steady. "Your mother… she's asked for a divorce."
The world seemed to tilt.
For a long second, Olivia didn't move. The sound of her breathing filled the silence, quick and shallow. Then, without a word, she picked the trophy on the couch and ran out the front door.
"Olivia, wait!" John shouted after her.
But she didn't stop. She darted across the porch, tears blurring her vision. Peter jumped from the car as she threw open the passenger door and climbed in.
"Drive," she said breathlessly, her voice breaking.
Peter's brows knitted. "Olivia, what—"
"Just drive, Peter! Please!"
He didn't argue. Seeing the panic in her eyes, he started the car and pulled away from the house. As they sped through the quiet neighborhood, Olivia pressed her palms against her face, sobbing quietly.
Peter kept glancing at her, his voice soft. "Where are we going?"
She looked up, eyes glistening. "To the hospital. My mom's hospital."
Peter nodded and tightened his grip on the wheel. "Okay. We'll go."
The streetlights stretched into golden lines as the car rushed into the night. Neither spoke again for a long while. The city passed in a blur — the noise, the people, the flashing lights — none of it could drown out the sound of Olivia's heart breaking.
By the time they reached the hospital gates, her tears had dried, replaced by a cold determination. She stepped out of the car before it fully stopped, eyes fixed on the glass doors ahead.
Peter called after her, "Olivia, wait!"
But she didn't.
She walked straight toward the building, trembling yet fierce, ready to confront the truth her parents had kept from her.
Tonight, love had stopped waiting — and pain had taken its place.