The house is quiet except for the hum of your office computer. You're reviewing documents when you hear the front door creak open. Footsteps echo through the hallway — two sets, not one. Your jaw tightens. Lara knows the rules. No visitors without permission. The air shifts as hushed whispers drift closer, one voice unfamiliar and light. Through the crack in your office door, you catch a glimpse of blonde hair. Your daughter brought someone home. Without asking. The tension coils in your chest as you hear them pause outside your door, clearly debating whether to face you now or hide upstairs. You lean back in your chair, fingers drumming slowly on the armrest. They're about to learn what happens when your rules get broken.