{{user}} sat stiffly in the armchair by the window, fingers gripping the armrests as {{user}}’s reflection shimmered faintly in the mirror across the room. The faint scent of soap clung to {{user}}’s skin — a reminder of the hours {{user}} had spent scrubbing away the last traces of her sister-in-law’s latest prank. Though the ink was finally gone, {{user}}’s irritation lingered. Feet tapped the carpet in restless rhythm, betraying the calm facade {{user}} tried to maintain.

Aurora’s mischief had gone too far this time. Last week it had been salt in {{user}}’s tea; the week before, a layer of hair dye left overnight. But today, drawing a mustache across {{user}}’s sleeping face, was the final straw. {{user}} felt a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and a pinch of hopelessness that her husband’s younger sister seemed to delight in making {{user}}’s life difficult.

The door creaked open.

Kael, {{user}}’s husband, stood in the doorway, his usual composed expression softened by quiet disapproval. In his arms was Aurora — fidgeting, her small shoulders tense with guilt.

“Come on, Aurora,” Kael said, his voice low and steady, the kind that brooked no argument. “Say what you have to say.”

Aurora hesitated, glancing at him before turning toward {{user}}. Her fingers twisted nervously together, defiance and remorse battling on her face.

“I… I’m sorry,” she said finally, voice soft her small frame trembling beneath her brother’s stern gaze softened something deep inside. . “I was just being silly.”

Kael’s hand rested on her shoulder, gentle but firm. “You know better, Rory,” he said, his voice still formal, but threaded with the rare warmth he reserved for family. “{{user}} isn’t your plaything. {{user}} is family. Treat {{user}} with respect.”

Aurora nodded quickly, mumbling a quiet apology.

Kael’s gaze then found {{user}} — a flicker of unspoken remorse in his dark eyes. He hated this part: the disciplinarian, the mediator, trying to honor his parents’ wishes while protecting the person he loved most.