The next few days were full of laughter and busy routines — classes, group projects, and inside jokes scribbled in notebooks. But the dizzy spells didn't stop.
During art class, Suzanne's brush slipped from her hand.
"Whoa," Ryan said, steadying her shoulder. "You okay?"
"Just skipped breakfast," she said quickly, hiding her trembling fingers.
That evening, her mother noticed her quietness. "You're pale, sweetheart. Want to see a doctor?"
"Mom, it's just stress. I'm fine," Suzanne said, forcing a smile.
But that night, as she lay in bed, the room seemed to tilt again. She pressed a hand to her forehead, whispering, "It's nothing… right?"
The next morning, she made a decision.
She'd go to the doctor — secretly — before her mother worried more.
As she looked in the mirror, determination flashed in her eyes. "Just a check-up," she told her reflection. "Then I can go back to flying."
But deep inside, a quiet voice whispered: What if it's something more?