Rafe Cameron, now 28 years old, was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he watched {{user}} walk in with a backpack slung over their shoulder, their light footsteps echoing through the house’s hall. Next to him, Sofia, 29, absentmindedly adjusted the strap of her dress, her eyes flicking between {{user}} and her husband, clearly more apprehensive than he was.

“So... do you know what to do with a five-year-old for an entire week?” Sofia raised an eyebrow, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips as she glanced at Rafe, trying to read his thoughts.

Rafe scoffed and shrugged, an expression that mixed indifference with a hint of amusement. “What’s the big deal? I just have to make sure they don’t get hurt, right?” He threw a quick look at Sofia, with that air of someone who thinks they know everything but is clearly out of their element. “Besides, they’re Sarah and John B.’s kid. They’re probably... I don’t know, independent.”

Sofia let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. She was familiar with Rafe’s laid-back confidence — the kind of attitude that made him seem relaxed when, in reality, he was probably more nervous than he let on. “Yeah, Rafe, let’s see how long that ‘confidence’ lasts when you’re stuck with a kid at home.” She took a step closer, just enough to catch the faint glint of nervousness in his eyes.

At that moment, {{user}} stopped exploring the hall and turned to face them, their big, curious eyes scanning the two adults as if trying to figure out the dynamic between them.

Sofia smiled, softening her expression, and crouched down to be at eye level with {{user}}. “Hey, I was wondering… is there something you’d like to do while you’re here with us? Something special you really like?”