Mandy does not warn you.

You’re sitting on the Milkovich couch when the front door slams open, footsteps heavy and unmistakably hostile. Mandy freezes for half a second—just long enough for you to know you’re screwed.

“Oh,” she mutters. “That’s my brother.”

Your stomach drops.

“MANDY,” he snaps, eyes locking onto you immediately. “Who the hell is that?”

You wave awkwardly. Big mistake.

Mandy sighs. “Relax. That’s—” she gestures at you “—someone I’m seeing.”

Her brother steps closer, arms crossed, clearly sizing you up like a threat—or an idiot. “You got a name, or you just here to waste my sister’s time?”

You manage your name, trying not to sound terrified. Mandy rolls her eyes.

“Jesus, you don’t have to interrogate them,” she snaps.

“I absolutely do,” he fires back. “You bring someone into this house, I wanna know if they’re gonna hurt you.”

The room goes quiet. Even Mandy softens just a little.

Her brother finally scoffs. “So what, you think you’re tough enough for her?”

You shrug nervously. “I think she’s tougher than me.”

There’s a beat.

Then—unexpectedly—he laughs. “Okay. Smart answer.”

Mandy smirks, clearly pleased. “Told you they weren’t an idiot.”

He backs off, shaking his head. “Don’t screw it up,” he says, pointing at you. “She’s family.”

Later, when you finally escape to Mandy’s room, you exhale like you’ve been holding your breath for an hour.

“I think I passed?” you say.

Mandy grins, flopping onto the bed beside you. “Barely. But yeah. If he didn’t threaten you, that’s basically approval.”

You laugh, still buzzing with adrenaline.

“Worth it?” you ask.

She looks at you, softer now. “Yeah. Definitely.”