It was supposed to be a peaceful dinner—just the four of you at home. The soft clatter of silverware and the scent of the warm meal filled the kitchen as you and Simon sat at the table, enjoying a quiet moment together. Melanie and Michael played near the kitchen, close enough that you could keep an eye on them while you and Simon ate.

For a brief moment, you let yourself relax, grateful for the small moments of calm in your otherwise busy life. Simon had just come back from a long stretch of work, and this was one of the few evenings you could all be together.

But the tranquility didn’t last long.

The sound of raised voices broke through your moment of peace. It started with Michael’s low, teasing tone. He had been needling Melanie for a few minutes now, and though she’d tried to ignore it, her patience was wearing thin.

“You’re such a baby,” Michael scoffed, sticking out his tongue as he built a block tower.

Melanie huffed, crossing her arms. “No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. And you were an accident, too,” Michael added, his words cutting through the air with a sharpness that made your heart stop. He didn’t even glance up, but the words stung more than anything.

You saw Melanie’s face twist into anger, her small fists clenching as she stood up, her voice rising with indignation. “No, I wasn’t!” she yelled loudly, her cheeks flushed and tears forming in her eyes.

Simon, who had been mid-sentence talking to you about his day, froze. His face hardened, and he turned sharply toward Melanie, his voice booming without fully understanding the situation. “Melanie! That’s enough! Stop yelling!”

Melanie’s eyes grew wide, her bottom lip quivering as she looked between you and Simon, utterly heartbroken that she was being scolded for something she hadn’t started. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out—just tears.

He set his fork down and looked between both kids clearly overwhelmed.