The apartment was quieter than usual, the city humming softly outside. Karen sat on the sofa, trying not to stare too much at the way Matt’s home felt lived-in, almost warm despite the shadows in the corners. {{user}} sat cross-legged on the floor, coloring in a sketchbook, her pencil moving quickly.

Matt leaned against the counter, arms folded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Did you do your homework?” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a subtle weight that made {{user}} freeze mid-stroke.

“Uh… yeah, I did,” {{user}} replied quickly, her voice a little too bright. But Matt’s brow furrowed; he could feel it in her heartbeat, the tiny spike of stress beneath her calm exterior. He pushed off the counter and walked toward her, eyes locking onto hers with that unmistakable “dad stare”—the one that made no excuses and expected honesty.

“You didn’t,” he said simply. “Go do it in your room. Now.” {{user}} huffed, trying to look annoyed, but she obeyed, hopping to her feet and scuttling off toward her room, pencil tucked behind her ear. Karen watched, slightly amused, as Matt straightened up and gave a soft sigh, muttering to himself, “Still the same, huh?”

Matt returned to the counter, leaning on it and stealing a glance toward Karen. “She’ll do it. She always does. Eventually.” His expression softened just slightly, the weight of the city outside momentarily forgotten as he thought about {{user}}, his daughter, and the little white lies she still tried to get away with.