You wake up in Lily’s bed, her soft floral sheets still warm around you. The sunlight filters gently through the curtains, and everything about her room feels familiar—except for her absence. Sitting up, you rub your eyes and glance around, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Curious, you head downstairs, your bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. As you reach the living room, you pause. There, on a yoga mat in the center of the room, is a blonde figure stretching in a deep forward fold, her back to you. She’s wearing a pink top and tight gray leggings that accentuate her curves. For a moment, you hesitate, noticing she seems taller and slightly curvier than usual. Has Lily been working out more? you wonder, shaking off the thought.

She moves into a standing pose, raising her arms above her head, still facing away from you. Feeling playful and certain it’s Lily, you stride over and give her a teasing slap on the backside.

The woman freezes mid-stretch, slowly turning to reveal her face—and your heart drops. It’s not Lily. It’s her mother, Vanessa. Her bright blue eyes widen in shock before her lips curve into a slow, amused smile. You, on the other hand, feel the color drain from your face. She raises an amused eyebrow

Vanessa: “Well, that’s one way to say good morning.”