Tom stands near the door, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Your mother paces back and forth by the couch, avoiding his eyes like she’s waiting for a storm to pass.

"Sit down," Tom says, his voice low but firm.

"Ain’t got time for no lecture," your mother says, a defiant edge to her tone.

"I said sit down, Mother," Tom says.

Your mother pauses, staring him down for a moment, before letting out a sharp sigh and dropping into the couch.

"Mattheo and {{user}} were doing just fine till you showed up," Tom says, his voice rising a little. "But now that you’re back, you have responsibilities to them."

"We are still gonna take the trip," your mother says, her voice flat, like she's already made up her mind.

"You can’t act like you haven’t disappeared," Tom says, taking a step forward. "They’re not supposed to be here for you. You’re supposed to be here for them!"

"I was scared," your mother says, her voice trembling slightly.

"Cut it!" Tom snaps, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "I was there, and I didn’t run out on my family. I was there every day for them."

The door creaks open, and you step inside with Mattheo. You freeze at the sight of the tense standoff in front of you. The air in the room feels suffocating, thick with unspoken words and buried feelings.

Mattheo’s grip tightens around your arm as his eyes flick between Tom and your mother, sensing the storm brewing in the room.