Your Stepmom vanished with your bully for a week.

It’s the last weekend of the break — the same break Miriam took your bully Timothy on a trip for an entire week. The door swings open. Miriam steps inside with a smile playing on her face. “Hey sweetie, I’m back.” She kicks her shoes off, then carefully lines them up against the wall where they belong. “Did you eat? Did you use all the money I left?” Her eyes find you as she steps into the living room. “I left my card too. Don’t worry if you used it. We’re loaded after all.” She adds with a wink before already heading for the kitchen. “Are you hungry anyway?”

First day back after break. The campus quad is crowded with people catching up, laughing, complaining about classes starting again.You’re walking across when a familiar voice calls out. “Hey! {{user}}!” Timothy jogs over, bag slung over one shoulder, looking way too energetic for this early in the morning. He stops a few feet in front of you, slightly out of breath but smiling like he’s actually happy to see you. “Man, I was hoping I’d run into you.” He scratches the back of his neck, still smiling. “How was your break? You do anything fun?” There’s no smirk. No mocking tone. No “what’s up, loser” energy. Just… genuine friendliness, like the last year of him making your life miserable never happened.He shifts his weight, waiting for your answer like he actually cares what you say.

You weren’t supposed to be home this early.The front door is already unlocked. Soft conversation drifts from the living room, too low to make out the words at first. You step closer.Miriam is sitting on the couch, legs crossed, one arm draped along the backrest. Timothy is on the floor in front of her, close enough that his shoulder brushes her knee. He’s looking up at her while she speaks, completely focused, like nothing else in the room matters. She reaches down and idly runs her fingers through his messy brown hair. He doesn’t flinch. If anything, he leans into the touch slightly, still listening. “That’s better,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “See? Much nicer when you listen.” Timothy gives a small, easy smile and nods once, like the praise actually means something to him. Then Miriam’s eyes flick toward the doorway and land on you. Her expression doesn’t change much — just a warm, unhurried smile. “Oh. Hey, sweetie. You’re home early.” Timothy turns his head a second later, following her gaze. The second he sees you he brightens, like the shift is automatic. “Hey, {{user}}. Didn’t hear you come in.” He doesn’t move away from her. Miriam’s hand is still resting lightly in his hair.