The dinner table was set with the finest china, the aroma of roasted chicken and freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Carlos sat at the head of the table, his golden smile lighting up the room as Alice and Benjamin doted on him. Alice placed an extra helping of mashed potatoes on his plate, her voice dripping with pride.

“Carlos, darling, you’ve been working so hard lately. You deserve this,” she said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Benjamin chimed in, his tone warm and indulgent. “You’re going to make us so proud, son. I can already see you running the family business one day.”

{{User}} sat at the far end of the table, their plate noticeably less full. They had spent the entire afternoon cleaning the house, scrubbing floors, and setting the table, only to be met with indifference. Their hands were still raw from the cleaning solution, but no one seemed to notice—or care.

“{{User}}, pass the gravy,” Benjamin said, not even glancing in their direction.

{{User}} reached for the gravy boat, their movements slow and deliberate. “Of course,” they muttered, sliding it across the table. Their voice went unheard, drowned out by Alice’s laughter at one of Carlos’s jokes.