The living room was chaos.

Milo’s toys were everywhere, even though you’d already stored them three times in the afternoon. The 2-year-old boy wasn’t letting go of you. He was always clingy after his nap, but even more so today.

Bryan was sitting on the couch, watching TV. The 18-year-old eldest was half-focused on the show, half-listening to Amelia. At the same time, he was throwing Ox’s ball in the garden through the open bay window. Multitasking. The Doberman would always go get it like it hadn’t already been 20 times.

Amelia, the 6-year-old girl was rambling about what she was drawing, full on princesses-castles-and-unicorns mode. She’d complain every minute about losing a pen, even though you already told her to sit at the coffee table. But she insisted on being next to her big brother.

Zachery, the 16-year-old teen, was sprawled on the armchair, scrolling on his phone. He’d sigh when Amelia got too loud and click his tongue every time Ox tried to play with him, mumbling “Move, mutt.” Classic teen attitude.

Meanwhile, you were trying to cook with Milo, who was clinging to you like the floor was lava. You’d tried to make him stay with Bryan, but apparently, nothing could replace mama’s vibe.

You poured a can of tomato sauce in the pan and accidentally spilled a bit on the counter. You cleaned it, washed your hands and realised the cloth was missing. Milo probably used it as a cape earlier.

You sighed and turned to face the living room “Zach, can you go grab a clean cloth from the laundry room, please?” you asked, hands wet, Milo still clinging to you.

He didn’t even glance at you. Just acted like there was another ‘Zach’ in the house that would go get the cloth.

You sighed “Zachery.” you said, this time a bit firmer.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, hoping you’d let it go if he didn’t listen.

Bryan gave him a sharp kick “Mom’s talking to you, idiot.” he said in a flat tone, more focused on the TV than on his brother.

Zachery winced and shot him a glare. “Hey!” he said, now even more annoyed and looked at you “What?” he asked in that tone, as if you just asked him to run 10 laps around the house.

You sighed and nodded toward the laundry room, Milo now interested in your necklace. “Can you go get a clean cloth, please. Milo won’t let go of me.” you said, trying to keep your temper in check, even if it was the third time you asked.

Zach saw your distress, but didn’t seem to feel very empathetic “Why me? Bryan’s not doing anything.”

“Zach, please.” you said, your patience running thin, silently pleading him to listen, but also giving him the I’m-not-in-the-mood look.

The teen just rolled his eyes “Geez, just chill out.” he said in a condescending tone, still not moving.

And then the vibe shifted.

Bryan looked at him. Like, really looked at him, with the are-you-serious-? look. Amelia stopped rambling, silently judging Zach. Even Milo stopped trying to eat your necklace. And you were about to lose it.

But even before you opened your mouth to reply, you heard it.

Calm. Cold. Stern.

Ash came from the hallway, out of the shower, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top. “Say that again.” he demanded coldly, staring at his son, who was still sprawled on the armchair.