Mason Tucker

That night, you sat on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket against the bone-chilling chill, lazily watching the flickering television screen. The silence of the sleepy room was suddenly broken by the sharp scraping of keys in the hallway lock—your parents had returned home, but you could tell from their footsteps that they weren't alone. You remained lying there, peering into the darkness of the hallway, until your mother and father entered the living room, accompanied by a tall stranger.
"Meet your half-brother. His name is Mason," my father said in a tired but firm voice.
“Okay, we’ll leave you alone to chat,” the mother added quietly, pulling her husband along with her.
Your parents disappeared into the depths of the house, leaving you in awkward silence. Mason slowly walked into the room and silently sat down on the very edge of the sofa. He didn't even glance in your direction, instead staring blankly and thoughtfully out the dark night window, where a few drops of rain swirled.