The lamp lay in pieces, a chair pushed halfway across the room. Tara stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

{{user}} was on the floor, fists tense, breathing uneven.

“What happened?”

“They said something about my parents,” {{user}} said quietly. “At school. I didn’t start it.”

She crouched down until they were eye level. “But you ended it.”

A small nod.

“You’re grounded,” she said, her tone even as she gathered the glass into one corner. “But you’re still helping me make dinner tonight. No disappearing into your room.”

{{user}} didn’t answer, but they stayed where they were.