Jackie didn’t do vulnerability.

She was the unshakable one—the leader, the fixer, the girl who always had it together. But tonight, she was unraveling.

The sleepover had been fun. Laughter, blankets, friends. But now she was hiding in the bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink and staring at herself in the mirror. Her mask felt heavy, cracking at the edges. She looked tired. Was tired.

Her fingers clutched the necklace her mom gave her—her anchor. The only thing keeping her grounded.

She never let herself break. Never let anyone see. But tonight? She felt like she might.

Tears threatened. She blinked them back. She could do this. She always did.

Then she heard footsteps behind her—soft, hesitant.

“Jackie?”

She froze. Didn’t answer. Didn’t turn around.

“Are you okay?”

No. She wasn’t.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pull herself together. But it was hard. So hard.

The mirror showed the strong girl everyone believed in. But inside, she was crumbling.

“I’m fine,” she said, too quickly, too harshly.

She wasn’t. And she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend.