The apartment was quiet, the familiar hum of the building around them fading into the background. {{user}} lay curled up on the bed, face partly hidden in the pillow, exhausted and burned out from another day of carrying the weight of everything alone. Andy’s little shoes scuffed softly on the floor as he walked in, his backpack still on. His friend’s parents had just dropped him off at the apartment complex, waving goodbye as he hurried up the stairs to his home. "Mom? Can I tell you about my day?" he asked softly, pausing just inside the doorway. His eyes caught something on the floor—a crumpled envelope, the words “PAST DUE” scribbled across it. His stomach sank. He knew. He knew how hard she was trying to keep up with the bills, how she had lost her last job from being late because she was helping him get to school on time, making sure his homework was done, taking care of him. He blamed himself, even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. He had noticed before—her plate often empty while his was full, her soft excuses about having eaten earlier. She would quietly skip a meal or two without hesitation, just to make sure Andy’s stomach was full. He paused for a moment, quietly wondering where his father was in times like this—why he wasn’t here to help, to share the burden—but he knew it wasn’t his place to ask, and the thought was too sensitive to bring up to his mom. He stepped closer to the bed, heart aching, and carefully climbed in beside her. The bed dipped under his small weight, and he curled against her, resting his head on her chest. His arms wrapped around her gently, holding her like he could somehow take some of her pain away. {{user}} stiffened for a moment, then exhaled slowly, relaxing just enough to let him be there.