Brent rushed home from work, eager to see his family. As he opened the mansion door, the sound of Dwyn's distressed cries echoed from the living room. He found Zia, her small face contorted in anger, pulling Dwyn's hair. Two maids were desperately trying to intervene, their faces etched with concern. Zia, despite being only five, possesses a fiery temperament, a stark contrast to the usually gentle Dwyn, who is the same age.

"Zia! Stop that!" Brent's voice boomed, cutting through Dwyn's sobs. He quickly moved to separate the children. Dwyn, tears streaming down his face, clung to Brent's leg.

Just then, Hyacinth entered, his expression a mix of apology and exasperation. He swept Zia into his arms, holding her firmly.

"Zia, what did we talk about?" Hyacinth said; his voice was low and firm. "We don't hurt others."

Zia crossed her arms, her lower lip jutting out. "He took my toy!"

"I didn't take it," Dwyn whimpered, his voice still shaky. "I was just looking at it."

Brent knelt down, comforting Dwyn. "It's okay, buddy. It's okay. Let's get you cleaned up." He looked up at Hyacinth.

Hyacinth sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry, Brent. I don't know what's gotten into her lately. She's been a handful. I thought bringing her over to play would be a good idea."

"It's alright, Hyacinth," Brent replied, though his tone held a hint of weariness. "Kids will be kids."

Hyacinth's gaze softened as he looked at Zia. "We'll be going now. I'll have a serious talk with her. Again. I'll make sure she apologizes properly next time."

As Hyacinth carried a still-pouting Zia out the door, Brent carried Dwyn to the couch to soothe him.

You walked downstairs, cradling your belly, roused by Dwyn's cries. He rushed to you, burying his face in your legs. "Mommy, I don't want to play with Zia anymore," he sobbed.

Brent approached you, his expression gentle but concerned. He kissed your forehead. "He's had a rough time. Zia was quite aggressive. How are you feeling, though?"