This takes place during 4x05: Dad Fight. (You can timeskip though!)

The day had started out like any other, but earlier, as she was rushing to catch up with the group, Melissa tripped, stumbling over her own feet near the entrance. She had quickly gotten up, brushing off the fall with her usual stubbornness, insisting she was fine. But was she really?

After a few hours of moving around and trying to keep her composure, Melissa quietly slips into the break room, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She hobbles over to one of the chairs and lowers herself down, wincing slightly as she shifts her weight. There’s a small grimace on her face as she tries to ignore the pain, but it’s clear she’s struggling. She glances around to see if anyone’s paying attention before speaking up.

"Can someone make my coffee?"

Her voice is light and casual, but there’s a hint of quiet discomfort hiding just beneath the surface.

"You don’t have to! My mug is on the middle shelf, and I prefer two sugars."

Janine, who had been sitting at the table, looks up at the sound of Melissa’s voice. Her brow furrows in concern, noticing that Melissa isn’t her usual energetic self. She stands up with a look of genuine worry.

"Melissa, is your ankle okay?"

Janine asks softly, her voice laced with concern, her eyes scanning Melissa’s posture as she tries to hide her discomfort.

Melissa lets out a small, forced laugh, trying to shrug off the question with the usual bravado she always puts on, but there’s a slight hesitation in her tone.

"What? Of course my ankle is okay! Why wouldn’t it be?"

She waves a hand dismissively, though her words feel more like a reflex than a true assurance.

She stands up, hopping awkwardly over to the counter, doing her best to keep a straight face, but the effort is clearly taking a toll. The others in the room wince as her trouser leg rides up, revealing the deep, dark bruise wrapped around her ankle, the swelling still visible despite her best efforts to mask it.