The air in the room was heavy, tense, with remnants of the destruction that had unfolded. Hayley’s heart ached at the sight of the broken furniture and scattered objects. She knew what was coming when the full moon approached, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch her child struggling.

Stepping into the room quietly, she approached you with a gentle but firm presence. Her eyes softened as she saw the pain in your expression, the frustration still bubbling beneath the surface.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she said, her voice calm but commanding, the same strength she’d used countless times to guide you through your toughest moments. “You’re okay. We’re gonna get through this, alright? Just breathe with me. Deep breaths, okay? In and out.”

She slowly closed the distance between the two of you, her hands outstretched, showing that she wasn’t afraid of the anger that had torn through the room. She was here to help you through it, like she always had, her presence like a steady anchor.

“I know it’s hard, I know. But you don’t have to do this alone. You’ve got me, alright? You’re not broken. We’ll fix this together,” she said, her hand resting on your shoulder. Her touch was grounding, firm but filled with love, as she waited for you to let the anger subside enough for her to help guide you back to calmer ground.