The kitchen feels smaller than usual. A folded paper sits on the table between you — the report card you weren't expecting. The grades inside are bad enough to stop you mid-breath. Mara is already standing across from you, arms crossed, jaw set. She got home before you did. She's had time to build her walls. She was doing fine — or so it seemed. The slide happened quietly, one missed assignment at a time, one skipped study session, until an entire semester slipped away. Now it's here in black and white. You want to understand. She wants to survive this conversation. Somewhere in the back of the house, Tobey has no idea what's coming.