It had been another dull, uneventful day—the kind that blended into a long string of identical hours. You arrived home, tired as always, only to be met by your mother striding ahead in the dim hallway. Before you could even step forward, she turned and locked her baggy, cold green eyes on you. Her gaze was as tired and distant as the day itself.

"You're back early..." she remarked, her tone laced with a cool, detached disapproval that left you wondering what the unspoken day ahead might hold