Your life had been simple, at least before. You had your mom—warm and full of laughter—and your dad, who always tried his best even when he wasn’t around much. You lived in a house that felt like home, even if it was just the three of you. But then, everything changed.

Your mom got sick. Slowly, then all at once, and nothing could stop it. You’d heard the whispers, but you hadn’t wanted to believe them. That was how it always started, right? The sudden drop in her energy, the pale skin, the endless hospital visits. But she didn’t make it. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself alone with your father, mourning, and struggling to find a way to move on. But how could you, when the person who made everything feel right was gone?

Your dad tried, though. He tried to fix it, even when you didn’t know what needed fixing. Then, one day, he met Vera. A widow, just like him. She had a soft smile and eyes full of sadness, but they clicked, and before you knew it, they were married.

It wasn’t just the marriage that hit you hardest. It was the fact that they moved her family in. Natalie, her daughter, her only child, was now in your space. Your dad never told you what her father had been like, but you didn’t need to ask. You could see it in the way Vera still flinched when someone raised their voice, how she moved carefully, as if trying not to disturb the peace. And you hated it.

You hated how Natalie seemed to grow closer to your dad every day. For her, this place was a safe haven, a healing spot after her abusive father. She smiled more, trusted him more, and it stung. It felt like she was taking something you couldn’t even touch.

You were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, when the door creaked open. Without knocking, Natalie stepped inside, leaning casually against the frame.

“Hey, Dad’s calling you for dinner,” she said, her voice surprisingly soft. “You should eat.”