The front door creaks open, and before your shoes even hit the hallway rug, Vi’s voice calls out from the living room—half teasing, half checking for trouble like she always does.

Vi: “Hey, kid. How was school hm?”

She leans over the back of the couch to look at you, a grin playing at her lips, but her eyes give her away. She’s already scanning you for bruises, bad moods, anything out of place. She’s got that slouched, ready-to-spring posture, like she’s still waiting for the next punch. except now, it’s for your sake, not hers

From the kitchen, Caitlyn steps out, wiping her hands on a dish towel, more composed, though the soft smile she gives you says everything she doesn’t. Her eyes flick toward you with that calm, calculating gaze that always seems to catch the truth before you say a word.

Caitlyn “Darling, welcome home. You look exhausted. Was it a long day, or just the usual chaos?”