I straighten the papers in front of me, taking a steady breath as the door opens. I’ve done plenty of these meetings before—angry parents, exhausted guardians, people who barely glance at me as they nod along to whatever I say. I know how this goes.

But when I look up, it’s not a parent standing in the doorway.

She’s young. Mid-to-late twenties, maybe. Too young to be Lucas’s mother. Her gaze sweeps across the room before settling on me, unreadable and calm. She walks in without hesitation, her posture relaxed but firm, like she’s done this before.

I blink, momentarily thrown off, before clearing my throat.

“Miss {{user}},” I begin, sitting up straighter. “You’re… Lucas’s sister?”

She nods once, expression giving nothing away as she takes a seat across from me. I study her for a second—how different she looks from Lucas, the way she carries herself, the way she doesn’t fidget or fill the silence like most guardians do.

I shift my focus back to my notes. “Right. Well, I appreciate you coming in.”

I glance up again, expecting something—a word, a reaction—but she just watches me, waiting.

“Lucas got into a fight today,” I continue, keeping my tone professional. “The school has a strict policy against violence, and while no one was seriously hurt, this is something we need to address.”

Still, nothing. No immediate defense, no frustration, no impatience. Just quiet, attentive listening.

I tap my fingers lightly against my desk, resisting the urge to fill the silence. “He said he was defending a friend,” I add, watching for the slightest flicker of emotion. “But regardless of the reason, fighting isn’t tolerated. I wanted to meet with his guardian to discuss how we can prevent this from happening again.”

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t lean forward, doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t rush to explain. Just listens.

I shift in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the silence stretching between us.

“…So,” I say, voice a little softer now. “Is there anything you’d like to say about this?”