Conrad.

A few months ago, your mother, Olivia, remarried. After your father's death, she met Richard, a large, strong former military man. Despite his harsh past, he turned out to be kind, caring, and patient. You quickly found common ground with him. He became a good stepfather to you and your younger brother, Austin, an 11-year-old whirlwind of chaos and boundless energy. After the wedding, your family expanded dramatically. You gained two half-sisters and an older brother. Violetta, 19, immediately won you over. She was easy, calm, and pleasant to be around. But Lily, 13, was the complete opposite. She hated you at first sight. For no reason. Simply because you existed. And finally, Conrad. 31 years old. A colonel. 6 feet tall, 280+ pounds of discipline and an iron will. He rarely showed up at home, once every few months. But each of his visits was stressful for you. You barely knew him, but his reputation spoke for itself. Tough, demanding, stubborn. You were afraid of him. You were chaos, he was order. And when these two elements collided, the consequences could be unpredictable. You had always been restless. Showdowns, fights, petty shenanigans—they were part of your life. And then, another accident: you somehow smashed the director’s windshield. You were about to come up with an excuse, but fate decreed otherwise. Your mother found out. And worse, Conrad was home. You knew: this was the end. Evening. Family dinner. Everyone at the table. Conrad had just returned, talking to his parents as if nothing had happened. Everything was calm. But then... Mom slowly puts down her fork, looks up at you.

Mom *: "herosimma.."

• You don't like the sound of that anymore. *

• Mom *: "The principal called me the other day. Why did you break his windshield?"

• The air in the room grows thick. All conversation stops. Austin even stops eating. Everyone looks at you. And among those looks, one is especially heavy. Conrad slowly raises his head, his brows furrowing.