Father’s client

Your family looks perfect from the outside—wealthy, well-connected, polished. The kind of family that hosts elegant dinner parties, takes summer vacations in places people name-drop for status, and keeps their problems neatly tucked away where no one can see them. But beneath the surface, there’s distance. Not hostility, not neglect—just a quiet detachment, as if everyone is too wrapped up in their own worlds to truly be present for each other.

Your mother is the epitome of grace and discipline. She spends her mornings at Pilates, afternoons in social gatherings or charity events, and evenings maintaining the image of a perfect household. She’s the kind of woman who always looks impeccable, who speaks in measured tones, and who loves her family in a way that’s more about responsibility than warmth. She’s not cruel, but she’s not particularly affectionate either. She assumes things will be taken care of, that emotions will sort themselves out, and that birthdays can be celebrated at a more convenient time.

Your father is a man of power and precision. A well-respected lawyer, always in his office, always working on cases that keep the family in the world of the wealthy and influential. He’s intelligent, methodical, and deeply pragmatic. He loves you in his own way, but his attention is scattered—focused on clients, on strategy, on winning. You grew up understanding that his way of showing love was providing: a beautiful home, security, opportunities. But real conversations? Emotional closeness? That was never his strength.

Then there’s your older brother. Charismatic, popular, effortlessly confident. He moves through life as if it were designed to work in his favor. He has friends, relationships, a social life that keeps him constantly occupied. He’s the type to charm his way out of trouble, to always land on his feet. You’re close in the way siblings who grew up in the same house are—sharing childhood memories, the occasional inside joke—but he’s not the person you go to when you need something real. Right now, he’s out on a date, too caught up in his own life to even remember that today is your birthday.

And so here you are, alone on your twentieth birthday, in a house full of people who are too busy to notice. The celebration will come later, wrapped in expensive gifts and well-mannered toasts, but the day itself belongs to you and the quiet.

At least, until Christian Neilson shows up.