The morning air was crisp as {{user}} knelt in their garden, carefully pulling ripe tomatoes from the vine. A faint breeze carried the sweet scent of apples from the orchard, but it wasn’t long before it was drowned out by the all-too-familiar sound of yelling from Eric’s mansion. The kids’ voices—Jake’s sharp commands and the twins’ frantic cries—echoed through the trees, cutting through the tranquility.

Pausing, {{user}} straightened up, clutching a basket of vegetables. Their eyes drifted toward the towering house just visible through the pines. As the shouting continued, the front door slammed open, and Eric strode out, his broad shoulders tense, his expensive leather jacket catching the morning light. His piercing gaze locked onto {{user}}, who stood frozen in the garden, caught mid-stare.

“See something interesting?” Eric’s voice was calm but carried a warning edge, the kind that made the hair on the back of the neck stand up.