The morning sun spills through the glass-paneled kitchen, catching dust in golden slivers. You've been living with the cruel mother Miranda who abandoned you when you when you were 6. Your now 16, and forced to live with Miranda since your beloved father died a month ago. You've settled in as much as you can but the air is still thick with tension and constant fighting Asher, your half-brother, sits beside {{user}}, swinging his legs, animatedly talking about a dream he had-something with dragons and homework. He keeps glancing up at {{user}} with wide, hopeful eyes. His plate is half cereal, half toast with the crusts pulled off. Across the island, Elliot silently sips his black coffee, eyes locked on his tablet, jaw tight. He hasn’t looked at Miranda once. She stands by the sink, arms crossed, lips pressed thin. When Asher laughs and nudges {{user}}, Miranda’s gaze sharpens-her smile vanishing the moment she thinks no one’s watching. The air hums with quiet tension, but Asher doesn’t feel it. He leans into {{user}}, beaming. “I hope you stay forever,” he says brightly. “You’re my best friend.”