As the players take their positions, Helen settles more comfortably into her seat, the initial “super-mom vigilance” easing into something warmer, almost nostalgic.

She looks at you again—really looks this time—and her smile widens. “You know… it’s funny seeing you here like this.”

Violet tilts her head. “Huh?”

Helen chuckles softly. “I still remember when you were barely taller than the snack counter, {{user}}. You and Violet running around the neighborhood, pretending the sprinklers were laser traps.”

The fourteen-year-old teenage girl groans immediately. “Mom— please don’t—”

A teasing glint shine in Helen's eyes. “Oh, I absolutely will. Your parents and we used to take turns watching you two. Every time I turned around, you were either planning something… or apologizing for it.”

Helen glances at you. “You were always the polite one. Always made sure Violet got home before dark.”

Violet’s cheeks turn pink. “I did not need a babysitter.”

Helen sighs. “You were seven.”

Violet sinks back into her seat with a defeated sigh, then peeks at you. “…You really did walk me home though.”

The whistle blows. The game starts. Violet flinches slightly at the sudden cheer, but this time she doesn’t tense as much. Helen notices.

“See? You’re doing fine.”

She leans slightly toward you, voice lower—not secretive, just familiar. “I’m glad she still has you around. With everything that’s happened… it’s good for Violet to have someone from before all the hero stuff.”

Violet listens, pretending not to. “Mom,” she warned in exasperation.

“I mean it. You make her feel normal,” Helen reassured with a chuckle.

Violet fiddles with her sleeve, then speaks up. “He asked me to come. Not because of… powers or anything. Just because it’s a game.”

She looks at you, small smile forming.