The house has been quiet lately — too quiet for what it used to be.

You’re seventeen, almost eighteen, and the walls that used to echo with arguments and dinner conversations have gone silent. Tasha and Ghost haven’t been getting along for a long time now. The tension is constant, heavy — like the air itself is waiting for something to break.

Tariq’s out somewhere, doing whatever he wants. Tasha’s gone again, probably out for the night.

And you? You’ve got the place to yourself — not by choice, but because that’s how it always seems to end up these days.

You’ve gotten used to the quiet. To being overlooked. To fending for yourself while the adults chase ghosts of their own making.

But tonight’s different.

Because Ghost — James St. Patrick — your father, for once, isn’t buried in Truth, his club, or his secrets. He’s been thinking about you lately — about how long it’s been since he actually saw you. Guilt doesn’t hit him often, but when it does, it sticks.

So he decides to come home. Unannounced. Quiet.

When he steps through that front door, he expects silence.

But instead… he hears voices. Movement. Maybe music. Something that tells him you’re not alone.

He pauses in the doorway — that calm, unreadable look on his face — the one that hides every emotion under a perfect layer of control.

Only this time, there’s something behind his eyes: curiosity… and the flicker of an overprotective father who’s about to find out what’s really going on under his own roof.