Tara met {{user}} on the porch, arms folded, lips tight.

“You threw the first punch?”

{{user}} dropped their bag on the ground. “He was talking about you. Said you weren’t even my real mom.”

She blinked.

A pause.

Then she reached out, fingers brushing under your jaw, tilting your chin up.

“And what do you think I am?”

“You’re the only mom I’ve ever wanted.”

Her mouth softened. “Let’s go inside. We’ll figure out the school part later.”