The house was quiet when Dr. Frank Langdon finally got home from Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. It was late, later than he liked, but that was the reality of emergency medicine. The ER didn’t care about dinner schedules or family time.

Frank tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and rubbed the back of his neck. His shoulders still carried the tension of the shift, monitors screaming, residents needing guidance, patients hanging in the balance. After years in the ER, calm under pressure had become second nature.

Family problems, though? Those were different. From the living room came the sound of laughter.

Frank stepped closer and saw Tanner and Penny sprawled across the couch, arguing about something on the TV.

“Absolutely not,” Penny said. “That character is the worst.”

“You just don’t understand the plot,” Tanner shot back.

Typical. The two of them had always been like that, close in age, constantly bickering, constantly together. Frank leaned on the doorway for a moment.

Then he noticed something. Or rather… someone missing. “Where’s {{user}}?” he asked.

Tanner barely looked away from the screen. “Probably in her room.”

Penny shrugged. “Yeah.”

Frank frowned slightly. He walked past them toward the kitchen where Abby was finishing dishes. She glanced over her shoulder when he came in. “Long shift?”

“When isn’t it?” Frank muttered.

Abby dried her hands on a towel, studying him for a moment. “I talked to you about something earlier,” she said gently.

Frank already knew what she meant. He’d been thinking about it all shift. About what Abby had told him. How Tanner and Penny always hung out together, but not with {{user}}. How when {{user}} tried to join conversations, her opinions were brushed aside.

Ignored. Sometimes even mocked. Frank crossed his arms, jaw tightening. “And tonight?” he asked quietly.

Abby sighed. “Same thing,” she said. “She came out for dinner… they barely acknowledged her.”

Frank glanced toward the living room again where Tanner and Penny’s laughter continued.

“After they finished eating,” Abby added softly, “they left her at the table alone.”

The words landed heavy. Frank had faced broken bones, gunshot wounds, and trauma cases that would make most people freeze. But the idea of one of his kids sitting alone at the dinner table while the others walked away? That hit somewhere deeper.

He exhaled slowly.

“She’s been staying in her room more,” Abby continued. “I think it’s easier for her than being out here.”

Frank ran a hand over his face. He had fought like hell to rebuild his life after rehab. Abby had stood by him through everything, every mistake, every step back toward being the man he was supposed to be.

And his kids? They were the best part of that life. Especially {{user}}. His baby. “She deserves better than that,” Frank said quietly.

Abby nodded.

Frank straightened then turned toward the hallway. He might spend most of his life fixing broken people in the ER. But tonight? He was going to start with his own house.