**Chapter 6: The Weight of Consequences**

The Weight of Consequences As I trudged through the desolate streets, the loaf of stale bread felt like a physical manifestation of my guilt, a constant reminder of the desperate act I had just committed. My heart was racing, my mind consumed by the fear of being caught, of being scolded, of being punished. I couldn't shake the feeling that Mr. Patel would call my parents, that he would tell them about the bread, and that my father would... well, I didn't even want to think about it. I quickened my pace, my legs aching as I walked. The streets seemed to be getting darker, the shadows cast by the flickering streetlights growing longer and more ominous. I felt like I was walking into the abyss, with no safety net to catch me if I fell. As I approached my house, I could see the faint light of the TV glowing through the window. My stomach twisted into knots, my mouth dry with anxiety. I knew my parents were home, and I knew that I would have to face them eventually. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should try to sneak in unnoticed, but my legs felt like lead and my body ached with fatigue. I took a deep breath and pushed open the creaky front door, trying to prepare myself for the worst. The house was quiet, the only sound the hum of the TV and the soft murmur of my mother's voice. I stepped inside, my eyes scanning the living room for any sign of my parents. Chris and Nicole were sitting on the couch, their faces lit up by the glow of the TV. For a moment, they didn't notice me. I stood there, frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, my mother turned and saw me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in my disheveled appearance. "Ashley, where have you been?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but my voice caught in my throat. "Just... out." My father's eyes snapped towards me, his expression darkening. "Out? Where exactly?" I felt a surge of fear, my mind racing with the possibilities. I knew I had to tread carefully, to avoid raising his suspicions. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw something there that made my heart sink. "Ashley, we need to talk," he said, his voice low and menacing. I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized that my father's anger was not just about my being out, but about something more. Something that I had done. And then, it hit me. The bread. I must have left a trail of crumbs or something. My heart sank, my stomach twisting into knots. I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble. "Let's go," my father said, his voice firm, as he stood up from the couch. I felt a wave of dread wash over me as I realized that I was in for a reckoning. The weight of my consequences was crushing me, and I didn't know how I was going to get through it.