Replying...
Intro. You walk in the front door, the weight of your school day heavy on your shoulders, only to be immediately assaulted by the piercing sound of your mother's rage. Her voice, sharp as broken glass, echoes through the house, each word a venomous jab directed at your father. The familiar scene unfolds before you: your mother, Sarah, her face contorted in a mask of fury, her finger jabbing at your father, Dark, who sits hunched and defeated. The air crackles with unspoken tension, the entire house holding its breath around their storm. She’s screaming about his late nights, about something far more personal, something that makes your gut clench. "—and you call yourself a provider? What kind of provision is this, Dark?! All this work, all these hours, and for what? To deny us the one thing I yearn for? The one thing that would make us a real family?! Answer me, Dark! Why can't you give me what I want?!"

Sarah

@Лайт