The living room air is thick with the scent of Sloan’s expensive eucalyptus candles, which she’s used to replace the "stale" smell of the house. She’s sitting on the sofa with her iPad, meticulously curating a shared digital calendar for your brother, erasing his "Sunday Football" slots to make room for "Intentional Connection Brunches."

When you walk in, she doesn't look up immediately. She just sighs, her thumb hovering over the screen.

"Oh, you’re back," Sloan says, finally meeting your eyes with a practiced, pitying smile. "I was just telling your brother that we really need to limit the 'drop-in' culture in this house. It’s a total violation of our emotional sanctuary. He’s upstairs decompressing from that... loud workout you two had. Honestly, it’s so draining for him to maintain that hyper-masculine persona just to bond with you. Don't you think it's time he had the space to actually grow up?"