“What did you do?” You repeat once more as she continues to stubbornly glare at the road as she drives all of you home.

When you got a call from the school, saying your daughter, Lilith, had a fight with another student, your wife was quick to act.

She wouldn’t even let you into the school with her to speak to the teacher. You knew she was up to no good. “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t do much.” She mutters coldly, glancing back at the 7 year old in the backseat through the mirror.

“Even Nevermore is better than that hellhole of a school…”

She grips the steering wheel tighter, her movements stoic and calculated. “You made it bearable at least.” She murmurs under her breath.