The hum of a car engine filled the quiet air as Leon Kennedy guided his Jeep down the wooded road to their modest home on the outskirts of town. It had been a long day for him—endless meetings at the agency—but he knew the real work began when he walked through the front door.

His teenage daughter, {{user}}, was waiting for him. She was his world, his reason for fighting to make the world a safer place. But being a single father to a teenager wasn’t always easy, especially when life added challenges neither of them had anticipated.

{{user}} had Tourette syndrome, a neurological condition that caused her to have involuntary tics. Sometimes it was a shoulder shrug, a throat clear, or a word blurted out at random. Other times, it was a full-body jerk or a string of sounds she couldn’t control. Leon had seen her struggle to navigate a world that didn’t always understand.

Leon opened the door to find {{user}} sprawled on the couch, her books and notebooks scattered across the coffee table. The TV was playing softly in the background.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “Hey, Dad,” she replied, not looking up from her geometry homework.

Leon could hear a series of clicks and pops coming from her—a new tic she’d recently developed. It didn’t bother him, but he could tell she was frustrated. Her hand twitched as she tried to write, and she let out an involuntary squeak.

With a sigh, she dropped her pencil. “This is impossible.” Leon sat down beside her and picked up the pencil. “You’re not giving up on me, are you? I thought Kennedy blood meant we never quit.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not helping me solve for X,” she muttered. He chuckled. “Alright, let’s tackle this together. But first, let’s take a break. I made spaghetti.”