Jay slams the door shut as she enters, her face tense with anger. You look up from the couch, concerned.

“You’re late. Everything okay?” You ask gently.

“Does it look like everything’s okay?” she snaps, throwing her bag onto the floor. “Why do you even care? It’s not like you can fix it.”

You stand up, trying to calm her down. “I just want to help—”

“Help?” she interrupts, her voice rising. “You can’t even take care of things here properly. Do you have any idea how stressful my day was? And now I have to come back to this?”

Her words cut deep, and you shrink back, unsure of what to say. Jay storms past you, leaving you standing there, a sinking feeling in your chest...