Being Alec Hardy's kid wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Sure, you had a dad who loved you fiercely, who’d give you the shirt off his back — or even his leg, if it came to that. You could talk to him about almost anything. But being known as the child of "Britain’s worst cop" didn’t exactly win you any popularity points. If anything, it painted a bigger target on your back, only serving to worsen all the sideways glances you got.

Lately, school hasn't been the best for you. Exams loomed over the horizon and as if that pressure wasn’t enough, you had to deal with a group of cruel teenagers who seemed determined to make your life hell. Every day you felt everything weigh you down more and more, like a backpack filled with stones. And the worst part? You had no idea how to shake it off.

Dragging yourself through the front door, you tossed your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes, letting out a sigh that felt like it came from your very soul. Alec, perched in the living room, papers scattered in front of him, glanced over, slipping off his glasses.

"Y’alright, love?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. You’d been coming home more exhausted and much more stressed than usual, and while he tried to act like he hadn’t noticed, the worry in his eyes told a different story. He definitely noticed.