The next day was a blur of practice sessions, mental drills, and endless feedback from the system. Every move he made on the track was calculated, dissected, and evaluated. By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, Henry felt as though his body was running on fumes. But despite the exhaustion, there was a new fire within him. He was closer than ever to his dream. Closer than he'd been in years.
And yet, a weight hung over him.
He hadn't told his family about the tryouts.
It gnawed at him like a splinter beneath his skin. His mother, his father, and even Emily, he couldn't keep lying to them. He had to tell them the truth.
But every time he thought about speaking the words, his throat tightened.
It wasn't that he didn't trust them. It was the fear of failure. If he failed again, if this chance slipped through his fingers like the last, how could he bear to see that look of disappointment in their eyes? He couldn't let them down. Not again.
But the system wasn't about to let him off the hook.
"You're stalling. Take a deep breath and do it. You'll only regret not telling them sooner."
Henry exhaled slowly, staring at the glowing interface in his mind. He couldn't argue with that.
"You've completed all your tasks for the day. Congratulations. Tomorrow, however, will be a different beast. Prepare yourself. But first, go home and tell your family the truth. Trust me, you'll feel better."
He let out a long breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.
As Henry walked through the front door of the house that evening, the usual scent of dinner hit him first, fried chicken and mashed potatoes, a staple in their modest home. The light from the kitchen seemed warmer, more inviting than it usually did. But as he stepped inside, the tension in his chest flared.
His mom was busy in the kitchen, humming as she set the table. His father sat at the worn-down dining room table, a notebook open in front of him, though his eyes were distant. Emily was on the couch, her feet kicked up, scrolling through her phone.
No one seemed to notice Henry's presence, but that only made the pressure in his chest feel heavier.
He had to do this.
"Mom," he said, his voice steady but strained.
She looked up from the stove, her brow furrowing slightly as she took in his serious expression. "Everything okay, Henry?"
He hesitated. There was no easy way to say it.
"Mom… I… I've been trying out for something. The Formula Academy."
Her eyes narrowed, and she put down the spoon she was holding. "Wait. You're what? The Academy? You've been keeping this from us?"
"I know. I… I didn't know how to tell you." He glanced at his dad, whose attention had shifted to him now, the quiet man's gaze heavy. Henry swallowed hard.
"You think this is a joke, don't you?" his father muttered, his voice rough. "You think I don't know what it's like to have dreams crushed? I gave up on racing years ago after the crash, Henry. This is just some fantasy you've got in your head, isn't it?"
The words stung. They were real, raw. Henry knew the weight of his father's disappointment more than anyone. But this time, it felt different. He wasn't asking for permission. He wasn't seeking approval. He was telling them the truth.
"I'm not giving up on this, Dad. This is everything. I'm not going to fail again."
His father didn't respond immediately. He stared at Henry for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly, he stood up from the table, his cane scraping against the floor.
"You've got guts, kid. I'll give you that. But racing…" He paused, his voice softening. "It's dangerous. It's not just about speed. It's about knowing when to stop."
Henry took a deep breath. "I get it. I do. But this isn't just about racing. It's about us. I want to help. I want to change things for all of us."
There was a long, awkward silence before his mother spoke. "I don't know if I'm ready to see you get hurt, Henry. I've been worried enough about your father, and now you're telling me you want to do this? I just…" She trailed off, unsure of what to say.
"I know," Henry said, his voice steady. "But this is my shot. It's the only chance I've got to make things right. And I need you to believe in me."
For a long time, no one spoke. His mom kept her back turned toward the stove, and his father returned to his chair, but he didn't open his notebook. Emily, sensing the change in the atmosphere, had stopped scrolling on her phone and was now looking at Henry with wide eyes.
Finally, his father spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "You've always had that fire in you, kid. If anyone can make it, it's you." He paused, the words coming slowly. "Just… don't make the same mistake I did. Don't let it consume you."
Henry nodded. "I won't. I promise."
His mother turned around and met his gaze. For a moment, her face was unreadable, but then she sighed. "You're all grown up now, Henry. I can't stop you, no matter how much I want to protect you from the world. Just… don't do anything stupid, okay?"
"I won't," he said, his voice firm. "I'm going to do this. For all of us."
For the first time in a long while, his mother smiled. "Then go for it, son. We'll be behind you."
The night passed quietly after that. The weight that had been pressing down on Henry's chest for so long lifted, and though the uncertainty of the future still lingered, he finally felt like he was no longer carrying that burden alone.
As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, the system's voice buzzed in his ear.
"You've made progress today. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Your family now knows. Let's make them proud."
Henry smiled at the words. It was the first time he had felt like he truly had someone, something on his side.
"Tomorrow's a new day. The road ahead is long, but remember this: Every great driver has had to fight for their place. You're no different. But you'll make it."
Henry exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the system's words settle into his bones. He wasn't in this alone anymore.
And that, for now, was enough.