Time passed slowly.
Kathrine felt better after that long talk with Elson, though a heaviness still lingered in her heart. It hadn't completely disappeared, but compared to before, when everything would turn blank and confusing, she was in a better place now.
And then, another day arrived.
It was time once again for a courtroom simulation.
Kathrine stood at the front of the room, the familiar pressure settling on her shoulders, but this time, she felt something has changed.
Her heart still pounded, but her hands didn't shake as much. Her breaths were steadier. She had spent the night before going over her arguments with Lydia, who had taken on the role of the opposing counsel.
Lydia had been brilliant, throwing questions, poking holes in her reasoning, and testing her patience like a real challenge in court. It was intense, but it helped.
Elson had once told her, "If you don't want to worry your friends, you can still ask someone else for help. You have others around you, people who care, even if they're not as close."
After giving it some thought, Kathrine reached out to Lydia.
Lydia had smiled in response.
"I'm always willing to help. Just tell me when," she said
"You supported me before, I want to return the favor."
Back when they had just started university, Lydia had struggled to adapt.
She was lost, overwhelmed, and unsure of herself. It was Kathrine who reached out then, offering her support without a second thought, without expecting anything in return.
That act had stayed with Lydia. Because of it, because of Kathrine, she had managed to get through those difficult times. And now, she was one of the top students in their class. She owed much of that to Kathrine, and she had never forgotten.
So now, seeing Kathrine struggle in her own quiet way, Lydia had made up her mind. To someone like Kathrine, who acted so strong that she often forgot it was okay to feel weak, Lydia wanted to be a someone who can support her even just for a bit.
She wanted to remind her that she didn't have to carry everything alone.
Back in the courtroom, Kathrine took a deep breath.
Her opening statement was in her hand, but she didn't stare at the paper. She looked up, breathing deeply again.
"Your Honor. Members of the jury. Today, you will see that the facts are clear…"
Her voice was steady.
Not perfect, but steady.
Compared to before, she could feel it, she had more confidence now. She paced herself carefully, made eye contact, and paused with intention.
She missed a line, glanced at her notes once or twice, but she didn't freeze. She kept going. She managed her nerves and stayed focused on what she needed to do.
And when the defense responded, she remained alert, jotting down notes for her rebuttal.
By the end of it, her professor gave her a slow, measured nod.
"Improvement noted, Miss Oscar. Much better."
Her classmates clapped politely, but that wasn't what mattered to her.
What mattered was how she felt.
She had done it.
It still wasn't her best, but she didn't feel like she was failing. She had stood her ground and delivered. It was a step forward.
For so long, Kathrine had dismissed her small victories, believing they were never good enough, that she should have done more, been more. But now, that was no longer the case, she would still appreciate this small victories.
Why had she forgotten that small victories are still victories?
That improvement is still progress, even if it's not yet perfect?
'Maybe this is what Beatrice felt back then,' she thought.
She recalled a moment not long ago, Beatrice, talented yet pressured, uncertain about an audition. Despite her ability, she had been overwhelmed by doubt.
Kathrine could somehow understand what that felt like now.
…
But progress, she learned, wasn't always linear. They can also be curved lines, not just going up but also going down, sometimes even drastically going down.
Two days later, Kathrine faced her hardest moment yet.
She had written a legal memo for a visiting professor, one known for being sharp, blunt, and, some whispered, cruel. She had poured so many nights into that memo.
Missed meals. Lost sleep. Pushed herself to the limits once again. Because she knew just how crucial this is.
When the professor read her work, he said nothing for a long moment. Then he placed the memo on the desk.
"Your writing lacks structure. Arguments are weak. Logic is scattered."
That was it. No follow-up. No other feedback that could help her improve.
Just a verdict.
Kathrine sat still in her chair, her fingers clenched in her lap.
Her throat tightened.
She had tried so hard.
But alas, things are really not going her way.
When she got home, she barely managed to shut the door behind her before the tears came.
Lydia was not yet home, she has a project she will do with her groupmates that she will stay out overnight.
She sank to the floor in the kitchen, knees pulled to her chest, her whole body shaking. Her breath came in shallow sobs.
It felt like everything she had worked toward had crumbled in a moment.
Those small victories she achieved felt like they were thrown out the window.
This was a major assignment for her studies but it was evaluated just like that.
All the progress she thought she had made, gone, erased by a few cold words. Even the confidence she was trying to build, crumbled all over again.
She even felt that the teenager dreaming a few years ago disappeared somewhere. Turned into a blur of memory she could no longer remember what she felt back then.