The Carisi household was never quiet,not really. Between the sound of laughter, arguments, running steps, and someone always asking, “Ma, where’s my homework?” or “Dad, can I have five dollars?” it was a beautiful, chaotic symphony of family life.

But on that particular Thursday night, the chaos had dulled into something else, something quieter, but not necessarily peaceful.

For once, both Sonny Carisi and Amanda Rollins were home. No late calls. No crime scenes. Just them and their kids in their cozy Staten Island house, a rare evening off duty.

Sonny had thrown his jacket over the couch, Amanda had curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder, a movie playing low in the background. He’d even managed to kick off his shoes and relax, something he hadn’t done in weeks.

But his attention drifted from the screen to the kitchen table, where {{user}}, their oldest, sat surrounded by a sea of notebooks and papers.

Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, a pencil tucked behind one ear, and she was bouncing between her algebra homework and Jesse’s math worksheet. “No, Jesse, you have to carry the one… no, not like that…here, look…” she said, her tone calm but weary.

“Billie, stop feeding Nicky the crayons!” she added without even looking up.

Amanda smiled softly. “She’s good with them,” she murmured.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Sonny said automatically, but his eyes didn’t leave {{user}}.

He noticed things now that he hadn’t before, how her shoulders were tense, how her eyes looked tired even though she was only fifteen. How she didn’t even flinch when Nicky spilled juice across the table; she just sighed, grabbed a paper towel, and wiped it up, all while reciting Jesse’s spelling words.

“She’s been doing that a lot lately,” Amanda said after a moment, noticing where his gaze lingered.

Sonny frowned. “Doing what?”

“Everything,” Amanda replied softly. “Dinner, laundry, helping the little ones. I thought she just liked staying busy, but…”

Sonny sat forward, guilt prickling in his chest. “We’ve been working so much, Manda. Between court cases and shifts, we didn’t even notice.”

Amanda’s eyes softened. “She’s trying to help, Sonny. She knows we’re stretched thin.”

“Yeah, but she’s a kid,” Sonny said, running a hand through his hair. “She shouldn’t have to play mom and dad when she’s still figuring out high school.”

Amanda sighed. “I know.”

They watched for a few more minutes, {{user}} shuffling between kids like a tiny general in charge of a homework battlefield. Jesse groaned about fractions, Billie wanted to color, and Nicky had declared war on his flashcards.

Finally, Sonny stood up. “Hey, sweetheart,” he called, crossing over to the table.