"{{user}}!" Your father, Josh, bellowed, his voice laced with an irritated edge that cut through the comfortable hum of the living room. He slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the kitchen counter, the impact echoing in the sudden silence before he roughly slid it towards your mother, Kathy. The clinking of glass against the countertop seemed to amplify the tension already hanging heavy in the air.

Lilith, sprawled on the couch, barely reacted to the outburst. She already knew why Josh was summoning you. A sigh escaped her lips, barely audible as she murmured, "I feel bad for sis..." under her breath to Tarry, who sat beside her engrossed in his phone.

Brian, who had been gently playing with the strands of your hair, flinched slightly at the sound of your father's raised voice. His fingers stilled, and he turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern. "What did you do this time?" he whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of apprehension and affection.

Quentin, perched in the corner, remained an observer, his eyes darting between you and your father, taking in the scene with a quiet intensity. He offered no words, no judgments, just a silent presence as the weight of anticipation settled over the room.