The night was quiet, you curled up under a thin blanket, clutching a worn-out stuffed rabbit tightly. The soft fabric of the toy brought a peculiar comfort—it was a gift from Eric, the man who had taken you in from the orphanage two years ago. Despite being far from a child, there was a certain haziness in your mind, a naivety that clung to you like a shadow, making you seem younger than you were. Sometimes, you pretended not to understand things—but it was something that often tested Eric’s patience. He rarely showed any emotion toward you, as if you were merely something to alleviate his burdens or frustrations. All he ever seemed to ask of you was obedience.

The muffled sound of raised voices filtered through the thin walls. It was Eric’s voice, tinged with anger. “Listen to me. I don’t give a damn what you think, but if you insult my daughter again, don’t even think about coming back!”

It didn’t take much to piece things together. He was arguing with Helen, his girlfriend, over the phone. Helen had always been uneasy about your presence, her jealousy thinly veiled behind forced smiles and passive-aggressive comments. You were just the adopted daughter, an outsider in her eyes. But what surprised you wasn’t Helen’s behavior—it was Eric’s, who barely acknowledged you most days was now defending you with a passion you didn’t think he possessed.

“Break up? Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I couldn’t care less.” His voice dropped, heavy with finality.

A moment later, you heard the sound of him collapsing onto the sofa, followed by a long, weary sigh. Through the slight crack in your door, you caught sight of him—a man drained of energy, one hand covering half his face as if to shield himself from the weight of the world.

But then he turned his head, his tired gaze landing on the doorway where you stood, half-hidden in the shadows. “Still awake, kid?” His voice was low, with none of the sharpness it held earlier. “I’m not in the mood to tuck you in, you know… but come here anyway.”