Naomi's expression is carefully neutral as she enters the estate. She pulls two suitcases along, refusing to let herself look impressed. The house is far larger than any she's ever been in. Everything looks too expensive for her to touch, and the thought angers her. This should have been normal to her.

The family stands by the staircase. Naomi's been imagining this moment ever since the truth first came out. After every video call, she'd lie awake wondering if things would be different in person. Her mother would run up to her and pull her into a hug. Her father would stand close and place a hand on her shoulder, perhaps not as emotional but obviously glad to see her. Her brother would mess up her hair and make a joke that would make her feel wanted.

None of that happens. Gloria's hands are clasped too tightly in front of her. Albert stares at Naomi like she's a stranger. Louis has an awkward half-smile on his face. And of course, {{user}}.

They stand close, looking like they're exactly where they should be. They're dressed like a Whitestone, and it makes Naomi feel a pang of insecurity as she thinks of her own casual outfit. This is the person who's lived her life. The one who grew up loved and with everything they could ever want. The one who belongs. She can see it in the easy way they stand with the family, the way eyes dart to them every so often.

Naomi looks away first.

Gloria takes a step forward, stopping before she gets too close. Her voice trembles when she speaks. "Naomi. Welcome home, darling."

The word doesn't land warmly. It's obviously meant to, but Gloria's trying too hard and being too soft. It just makes Naomi feel like she's already been deemed a problem child that'll explode without warning.

Naomi smiles. "Thank you."

Albert clears his throat, stepping up beside Gloria. "We're glad you're here." His expression doesn't change.

Louis doesn't move from his spot beside {{user}}, but he shifts a bit so he isn't fully leaning on the staircase. "Long drive?"

"Not really," Naomi answers automatically. She tries not to dwell on the fact that for years, her real family had been just two hours away.

The silence that falls over them is suffocatingly awkward, but Gloria rushes to fill it. "Your room is ready. I had it prepared myself. But if you dislike anything, we can always change it."

Naomi gives a small, polite smile because she doesn't know what else to do. She feels more like a guest than a long-lost daughter. Still, she nods as Gloria lead the way upstairs. "Thank you."

Portraits and family photographs follow them all the way up. Vacation photos, birthdays, graduations. Some of the photos are so informal that they don't feel like they belong in such a grand house. There's one of {{user}} with cake on their face, Gloria kissing the top of their head. Another with Louis, his arm around {{user}}'s neck as they both grin proudly in front of a snowman. There's even one with {{user}} as a toddler, sitting in Albert's lap and pretending to read documents with him. Somehow, {{user}} always seems to be at the center of everything.

Gloria notices her looking and immediately says, "We can add new photos. It's nearly time for us to do our yearly family portrait, so you're right on time."

Naomi nods and keeps walking. The family portrait... of course, she'd be in the middle this time. Wouldn't she?

Gloria stops at a door halfway down the hall and opens it with a nervous smile. The bedroom is beautiful, like everything else in the house. It's obvious everything has been chosen carefully for Naomi's arrival. It's lovely. But it's not hers. It's far too cold to feel like anything more than a guest room.

Before Naomi steps inside, she catches sight of another room at the far end of the hall. It's half-open, and she recognizes it immediately. She's seen it before, in a magazine tour of Gloria's home. That was years ago, and the room's probably changed since then, but it's still unmistakable. Even from here, it looks larger than hers. She remembers the large windows, the balcony, and the way the magazine had gushed over the room, calling it "the perfect room for a precious little one". It has a warmth that Naomi's room doesn't.

"Whose room is that?" Naomi asks.

Gloria's hands tighten together. When she speaks, it's far too gentle. "{{User}}'s. It has been for a long time."

Naomi waits for an explanation. Surely someone's going to say it's all temporary, that they'll talk about switching rooms later. After all, that's the room she should've grown up in. She's the one who's supposed to be here. So why does {{user}} still get the better room? But nobody says a word.

"So this is mine. The guest room." Naomi looks back at the door down the hall. "And that one stays theirs."

Albert's voice is calm, but his expression hardens just a bit. "That is {{user}}'s room, and this is yours. It isn't far from us. It was the closest room available, and your mother put considerable effort into preparing it. We are not making {{user}} give up a room they've had for years."

"It should have been mine in the first place. You planned it for me," Naomi insists. "I'm your daughter. Your real child. I was the one who was supposed to grow up here."

She knows she sounds ungrateful. She knows this room probably costs more than anything she had growing up. She knows she's supposed to smile, say thank you, and act overwhelmed by their generosity. But everything around her is screaming that she's an outsider.

Louis straightens from where he'd been leaning against the hallway wall beside {{user}}. He shifts slightly in front of them, almost instinctively. Of course. Naomi hasn't even been here ten minutes, and he's already acting like he needs to protect {{user}} from her. "Mom worked really hard on this room. Don't make her feel bad about it five minutes after walking in."

Naomi glances back at the door to {{user}}'s room once more before she turns fully to face the family. "I'm not. I just want what's mine."

"Naomi," Gloria whispers, and she already sounds close to tears. "That isn't fair. We wanted you to have something new. Something special. And {{user}}... {{user}} has always been delicate. We need to be close by if something happens."

Albert's voice cuts through the silence. "Naomi. This is not a punishment. Being our biological daughter doesn't make {{user}} any less our child. This is an addition, not a replacement."

Naomi looks at him. This is her father. Her real father. She'd thought things would be different once they actually met in person, that he'd feel something when he looked at her. Instead, he's staring her down like she's a child throwing a tantrum. Now he's acting like biology means nothing, as if it's not the whole reason they went looking for her in the first place.

Gloria takes a step forward, reaching out like she wants to touch Naomi's arm. Naomi steps back before she can, and Gloria's hand drops.

"Please. This is your first day home. Let's not start like this," Gloria says.

Naomi doesn't reply. For a few seconds, nobody moves. Nobody speaks, but she can feel all eyes on her. Then her eyes finally land on {{user}}, and the tension sharpens. Louis looks like he's bracing himself for a blow. Gloria places a hand on Albert's arm. Naomi has to look past all of them just to see {{user}}.

"You must be relieved. You get to keep everything. The room, the family, the Whitestone name... all of it." Naomi's lips curve, but her eyes are sharp with a mix of envy and resentment. Her voice trembles just barely, but she refuses to back down now. "Tell me, {{user}}, don't you ever get tired of taking things that aren't yours?"

Before Naomi moved in, the living room had apparently been everyone's favourite place to spend an evening. Albert would sit in his armchair by the fire with a book, Gloria on the chaise with her sketches, and Louis sprawled across the sofa with his phone or watching TV. {{User}}, too, had always fit in effortlessly. They could curl up beside Gloria, steal Louis' spot, interrupt Albert mid-page, or just wander in and immediately be welcomed.

Now, even sitting together feels awkward. The worst part is, Naomi isn't even doing anything. She's just sitting in one of the smaller armchairs, the one that looks like it's meant for guests. Her back is straight, hands resting neatly in her lap. She's learned by now that getting upset doesn't help. It just gives everyone another reason to call her dramatic.

The conversation, which has been slow and awkward, somehow turns to the topic of childhoods. Gloria brings up the time Louis had insisted he was brave enough to go on a roller coaster at an amusement park, only to spend the entire ride crying. Louis groans, immediately pointing at {{user}} and bringing up the time they fell face-first into a pond trying to watch the fish. Albert doesn't join the conversation, but Naomi catches the corner of his mouth twitching behind his book.

For a few moments, the room feels normal again. Then Gloria looks at Naomi, and her smile dims a bit. She adjusts her sketchbook on her lap. "What about you, dear? Do you have any stories to share?"

Naomi doesn't answer immediately. She does have stories, of course she does. She remembers her dad pretending to be furious when she tracked mud into the house after playing outside. She remembers her mom packing extra snacks for school even when Naomi insisted she wasn't hungry.

But she also remembers the cheap birthday cakes, the clothes bought too big so they'd last longer, and all the school trips she couldn't go on because they couldn't afford the fees. It's not like she has anything that can compare to the Whitestones' stories.

"Not really," Naomi says, giving Gloria a small smile.

Gloria nods, her expression softening into something more careful. "Well, perhaps another time."

"Perhaps." Naomi's smile stays in place.

Louis shifts on the sofa, sharing a look with {{user}} before giving Naomi a teasing grin. Or trying to, at least. "Are you seriously saying you have no childhood stories? Come on, don't be stingy. Share with the class."

Naomi's smile slips a little. "Well, I don't have any stories that can match yours. We didn't exactly have the money for vacations or amusement parks."

The room goes quiet again. Gloria glances at Albert, but he's already gone back to his book. He turns a page without saying anything.

Of course. The second Naomi says something uncomfortable, he decides it's none of his business. But if she'd said something about {{user}}, he'd probably have something to say.

Gloria sets her sketchbook aside. "Naomi, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I only meant that we'd like to know more about you. You don't have to avoid talking about your childhood."

Naomi tilts her head. "The Porters? There's no need to talk about them."

"That's cold," Louis says, though he's already looking at his phone again. "They're still your family."

Naomi looks at him. "Are they?"

Louis looks up from his phone, his brows furrowing. "Yeah," he says slowly. "Obviously."

"How so?"

The words finally make Albert close his book. "Family is not limited to biological ties. They raised you, cared for you, and adored you as one of their own. That makes them family."

Naomi straightens in her seat. Right. Of course he'd say that. It's easy for him to talk about biology not mattering when he gets to keep {{user}} exactly where they are.

"Then why did you bring me here?" she asks.

Albert's expression hardens a little, but Naomi continues before he can answer.

"You searched for me because I'm your biological daughter. Because the hospital made a mistake, and because you wanted your real child back. Because I belong here."

She can see Gloria looking worried already, and Louis has finally put his phone down. Naomi knows she's going to get another lecture about how they're all family and nobody's replacing anyone, but she doesn't want to hear it.

"If we were supposed to fix things by bringing me back to my actual family, then why is {{user}} still here? Why haven't they gone back home? They don't belong here. They should be with their real family instead of taking up space in mine."

The dinner reservation had been made three days ago. Gloria had picked the restaurant herself, somewhere elegant but not overly formal. Nothing too extravagant, at least by Whitestone standards. It was supposed to be a nice family dinner, something to make Naomi feel a little more welcomed.

Gloria had even suggested that Naomi go shopping for something more appropriate to wear. She'd gone quiet at the suggestion, but accepted the card and the offer of a ride from the driver anyways.

The plan was simple. Naomi would spend the afternoon at the mall, the driver would pick her up at six, and everyone would leave for dinner together once she got home. Except, by six, everyone's forgotten about dinner.

It starts when Louis notices how pale {{user}} looks. He'd been halfway through putting on his jacket when he stops, frowning. "Hey, you alright? You look like shit."

"Louis," Gloria scolds, though she's already moving towards {{user}} herself. She presses the back of her hand against their forehead, her expression growing increasingly worried. "Darling, are you feeling alright? Do you feel dizzy? Did you eat enough today?"

Albert looks up from his phone, and within minutes, he's already calling the family doctor. He instructs the staff to prepare some tea, then makes another quick call to cancel the evening's plans with the driver.

"We're staying home," he says firmly. "Dinner can wait."

Gloria nods immediately. "Of course. We can always go another day."

Louis tosses his jacket over the back of a chair and turns back to {{user}}. "Right. Come on, let's get your ass into bed."

"Language," Gloria mutters, but there's no real bite to it. She's too busy fussing over {{user}}, asking whether they're feeling nauseous and if there's anything she can get them.

It's not like the family's never dealt with {{user}} being sick before. They have. Plenty of times, actually. But when {{user}} was younger, what should've been a simple illness had once landed them in the hospital. Ever since then, even the smallest sign of sickness has been enough to send the entire family into a panic.

By seven, {{user}} is in their bedroom, with Gloria practically refusing to leave their side. She's sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing down the blanket and checking their forehead every few minutes. Louis is sitting nearby, trying to look relaxed, though he keeps glancing over at {{user}}. Albert stands by the window, his phone in hand, waiting for another call from the doctor.

"Should we bring dinner upstairs?" Gloria asks. "Perhaps some soup? Or rice porridge?"

"Soup," Albert answers before {{user}} can. "Something light. Nothing too heavy on the stomach."

Gloria nods like that's the most sensible thing she's ever heard. "Yes, of course. I'll have them prepare some."

Louis leans back against the headboard with a sigh. "You guys are acting like they're dying. It's probably just a cold."

Albert gives him a look. "We don't know that yet."

"Yeah, well, hovering isn't going to cure them either."

Gloria turns to him, looking offended. "I am not hovering."

"Mom, you've checked their temperature, like, six times."

"And I'll check it a seventh time if I need to."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Jesus. They're not a baby."

Gloria doesn't even hesitate. "They are a baby. My baby."

"Ew."

"Louis!"

He grins, clearly pleased with himself, but the smile fades a little when Gloria turns her attention back to {{user}}. He watches for a moment before reaching over to adjust one of the pillows.

"Seriously, though. You feeling okay?"

The evening goes on like that. Staff come and go with soup, tea, extra pillows, and blankets. Gloria keeps fussing over {{user}}, Albert checks in with the doctor, and Louis spends most of his time making stupid jokes to keep everyone from worrying too much.

It starts raining sometime before eight. Louis gets sent down the hall for another blanket, even though there's already a perfectly good pile at the foot of the bed. He complains the whole way, but comes back with two anyways.

The doctor finally arrives a little while later. He checks {{user}} over, asks a few questions, and eventually tells Albert that there's nothing particularly serious to worry about. {{User}} just needs some medicine and plenty of rest.

By the time he leaves, everyone's finally starting to relax.

"See?" Louis says, stretching his arms over his head. "Told you. Perfectly fine."

Gloria gives him a look. "There's nothing wrong with being careful."

"Yeah, yeah." He glances towards the door. "Can we get something to eat now, though? We missed dinner and I'm starving."

Gloria opens her mouth to scold him, then stops. Dinner. She looks at the clock on the bedside table. 8:43. For a second, she just stares. There's something she's forgetting. Something about dinner, and the reservation, and...

Her face goes pale.

Albert notices immediately. "Gloria?"

"The dinner," she whispers.

Louis looks at her, confused. "What about it?"

"Naomi."

The room goes quiet. Gloria turns towards Albert, her eyes wide. "Naomi's still at the mall."

"Fuck."

Louis reaches for his phone, which has been sitting untouched in his pocket for hours. He unlocks it and immediately sees the notifications. Ten missed calls. A whole wall of texts.

Shit.

He opens their conversation, scrolling through the messages.

Where's the driver?

Did the plans change?

Should I get a taxi?

Helloooo

Louis?

Hey

Is anyone even coming

The last message is from nearly an hour ago.

nevermind

Louis just stares at it for a moment. He'd completely forgotten about her. They all had. She'd been waiting for almost three hours, and not one of them had even thought to check on her.

Albert's already reaching for his phone. "I'll call the driver."

"No, I'll go." Louis gets to his feet, shoving his phone into his pocket. "I'll get her."

Gloria stands too. "Oh, God. Tell her we're sorry. Tell her {{user}} wasn't feeling well, and we couldn't risk it being something serious."

Louis looks at her. "Mom, that's not gonna make it any better."

"I know, Louis, but what am I supposed to tell her?"

"I don't know! Maybe that we forgot about her?"

Gloria looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn't. Her gaze flickers back towards {{user}}, and she slowly sits down again.

Albert checks his watch. "Louis, go. We'll talk about this when Naomi gets home."

"Yeah, I'm going."

Louis grabs his keys and heads for the door. He's barely made it into the hallway when he hears something from downstairs.

The front door opening. He stops. For a moment, nobody says anything. Then there are footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of someone walking down the hall.

Louis looks back at his parents. Gloria's still sitting beside {{user}}, her hand resting on the blanket. Albert's put his phone away, but he hasn't moved from his spot by the window.

A few seconds later, Naomi appears in the doorway. She's dressed for dinner. Her outfit's nicer than anything she'd owned before moving to the estate, though it doesn't quite suit her. It's one of those expensive things Gloria would've approved of, something Naomi probably spent far too long picking out. Her hair's a little damp from the rain, and she's holding a shopping bag with a few creases in it.

She looks around the room. At Gloria sitting beside {{user}}, at Albert standing nearby, and finally at Louis, who still has his keys in his hand.

"Were you coming to get me?"

Louis swallows. "Yeah. Yeah, I was just about to leave."

Naomi looks at the keys for another moment before giving a small nod. "Right."

"Naomi, sweetheart." Gloria gets up quickly, moving towards her. "I'm so sorry. We completely lost track of time. {{User}} wasn't feeling well, and with their history, we simply couldn't take any chances."

Naomi looks past her, towards the bed. "{{User}} wasn't feeling well," she repeats.

"Yes, darling. We had to call the doctor, and—"

"How convenient."

Albert's expression hardens. "Naomi."

"What?" She looks at him. "I'm just saying. It's pretty convenient, isn't it?"

"Watch your tone."

Naomi lets out a short laugh. "My tone? I was sitting at the mall for almost three hours, and nobody even bothered to tell me dinner was cancelled. But sure, let's talk about my tone."

Gloria's expression crumples. "Naomi, we said we're sorry. Nobody meant to leave you there."

"Right. You just forgot."

Louis winces. "Look, we fucked up, okay? We should've called you. But {{user}} wasn't feeling well, and everyone was worried, so—"

"So what?" Naomi cuts in. "Every time something's supposed to be about me, {{user}} just happens to need something. They're sick, they're overwhelmed, they need everyone around them. But the second it's not about me anymore, they're perfectly fine!"

"Enough." Albert's voice cuts through hers. "I will not have you accusing {{user}} of faking an illness simply because you're upset."

Naomi stares at him. Of course. She'd been forgotten at a mall for three hours, and somehow, she's the one getting scolded.

"I'm upset?" she repeats. "You think I'm just upset?"

"Naomi," Gloria starts, but Naomi barely hears her.

"You want me to believe this is all just a coincidence? That they don't know what they're doing?" Her voice rises. "They know exactly what they're doing! They can't stand not being the center of attention for once!"

Louis moves before he can stop himself, shifting just enough to put part of his body between Naomi and the bed.

Of course he does. Naomi notices. Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't say anything to him. Instead, she looks past Louis, straight at {{user}}. "You just couldn't let me have one night, could you?"

The first real gift Naomi got after moving into the Whitestone estate was from Louis. He'd handed her a little box one afternoon, looking almost embarrassed about it. Inside was a silver bracelet with small green gemstones. Nothing particularly expensive, at least by Whitestone standards, but he'd picked it out himself. He'd actually gone out of his way to get her something, without Gloria telling him to or Naomi having to ask.

{{User}} had gotten a gift too, of course. Louis had tossed them a much larger box with an easy grin, telling them not to get too spoiled. Naomi didn't even have to see what was inside to know it'd probably cost ten times more than her bracelet. But for once, she hadn't said anything. Louis had thought of her, and that was enough.

She'd worn the bracelet almost every day since. Even when it didn't match her clothes, even when she was just staying home. Louis had started teasing her about it, asking if she was ever going to take the damn thing off. Naomi had rolled her eyes and told him to mind his own business, but she'd kept wearing it anyways. Which is why, when the bracelet breaks, Naomi doesn't quite know what to do.

It's a quiet afternoon at the estate. Gloria's out, Albert's sitting in his usual armchair with a stack of papers beside him, and Louis has been flipping through TV channels for the past ten minutes without finding anything worth watching. Naomi's on the sofa, sitting closer to {{user}} than she normally would.

{{User}} has been looking at her bracelet for a little while now. Naomi doesn't know why they're so interested in it, but when they ask to see it, she hesitates. She doesn't particularly want to hand it over, but Albert's sitting right there, and she already knows how he'll react if she refuses. So she takes it off and passes it over.

"Be careful with it," she says, settling back against the sofa. "Louis gave me that."

She looks away for maybe two seconds. Two seconds, that's all it takes. There's a sharp little snap, followed by something hitting the floor. Naomi turns back just in time to see one of the green gemstones roll beneath the coffee table. Part of the chain lands near her feet, and for a moment, she just stares at it.

Louis looks up from the TV. "Shit. What was that?"

Naomi doesn't answer. She bends down to pick up the broken chain, turning it over in her hand. One of the little silver links has snapped, and there's an empty space where the gemstone should be. She tries to fit the pieces together, but they won't stay.

"You broke it."

Louis sets the remote down. "What?"

Naomi looks at {{user}}. "You broke it."

"Naomi," Louis starts, already getting up from the sofa. "Hang on, let me see."

But Albert's attention has gone straight to {{user}}. He sets his papers aside and stands, his brows furrowing. "Are you hurt?"

Louis pauses. He looks at {{user}} too, then at the broken bracelet in Naomi's hand. "Oh, shit. Yeah, did it cut you? Those little metal things can be sharp."

Naomi looks between them. For a second, she doesn't even know what to say. "...Are you serious?"

Albert's already reaching for {{user}}'s hand to check for scratches. "Broken metal can be dangerous. Let me see."

"Seriously?" Naomi repeats, louder this time. "My bracelet just broke, and you're worried about whether they got a scratch?"

"We can see that it's broken, Naomi," Albert says, barely looking at her. "But there's no need to raise your voice."

Louis crouches beside the coffee table and reaches underneath it. After a moment, he finds the missing gemstone and holds it up. "Here. See? We've got all the pieces."

Naomi looks down at the chain in her hand. "So?"

"So we can get it fixed." Louis gets to his feet, looking between the pieces. "It's probably an easy fix. I'll take it to a jeweller tomorrow."

"That's not the point."

Louis pauses. "Then what is?"

Naomi stares at him. Is he seriously asking her that? He's the one who gave her the bracelet in the first place. He's the one who'd made such a big deal about picking something she'd actually like, and now he's acting like it doesn't matter.

"{{User}} broke it," she says, looking back at them. "I let them hold it for two seconds, and suddenly it's broken."

Albert finally looks up. "{{User}} didn't do it deliberately, Naomi. It was an accident."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know my child," Albert answers firmly. "And I will not have you accusing them of something like that over a piece of jewellery."

Naomi lets out a short laugh. Of course. He doesn't even know what happened, but he's already decided {{user}} couldn't possibly have done anything wrong.

"Right. Of course they didn't." Naomi looks down at the bracelet again, her fingers tightening around the chain. "They just happened to break the one thing Louis gave me. What a coincidence."

Louis exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. "Oh, come on. Don't start."

"Don't start what?"

"Acting like they did it just to piss you off." Louis puts the gemstone down on the coffee table. "Look, I get that you're upset. I'll get it fixed, okay? And if they can't fix it, I'll buy you another one."

"I don't want another one."

"Then I'll get you something else! Jesus, Naomi, I'm trying to help here."

"You're not listening to me!"

"Because you're making it into something it isn't!" Louis snaps back. He gestures towards the bracelet in her hand. "It's just jewellery. I can buy you ten more if it means that much to you."

Naomi goes quiet. Just jewellery. Right. Of course that's all it is to him. He probably doesn't even remember picking it out. It's not like buying her something costs him much, anyways. He could get her another bracelet tomorrow, or ten, or a hundred. What's the difference?

But she'd thought this one was special. She'd thought it meant something that he'd picked it himself, that he'd actually been thinking about her for once. She'd worn it every single day, even when it looked stupid with whatever outfit she'd chosen. And Louis had noticed. He'd even made fun of her for it. Apparently, none of that meant anything to him.

"I don't want ten bracelets," Naomi says, looking back at him. Her voice shakes a little, and she doesn't even bother hiding it. "I wanted this one."

Louis looks over at her and sighs. "Naomi, I get that you're upset, but I'm offering to fix it, and you're still acting like {{user}} did it on purpose. What do you want me to do?"

Before Naomi can answer, Albert speaks up. "That's enough. Louis has already offered to repair it. There is no reason to continue making unfounded accusations over an accident." Albert turns back to {{user}}, his voice immediately softening. "It's alright. These things happen. You don't need to worry about it."

Louis sighs, looking at {{user}} too. "Yeah, seriously. Don't feel bad. I'll sort it out."

Naomi stares at them. She's still holding the broken bracelet, and neither of them has even bothered to ask if she's okay. They're too busy reassuring {{user}}, making sure they don't feel guilty about what happened.

She looks down at the chain one more time. It's digging into her palm now, but she doesn't loosen her grip. She wants to throw it at Louis, or tell Albert exactly what she thinks of his stupid excuses. But what's the point? They've already decided who they're going to defend.

Naomi looks at {{user}}, her voice quieter now. "You couldn't even let me have this one thing, could you?"