The Greenwood house was a sanctuary of routine and quiet, the kind of household where secrets were buried deep beneath the surface of daily life. Brian, an 18-year-old college student, was home for the weekend, diligently working on a project at the dining room table. His father, Alex, a respected economics professor and Brian’s teacher, had just returned home from a long day at the college. The weariness was etched on his face as he stepped through the door.
“You look exhausted,” Amanda, Brian’s mother, greeted Alex with concern, brushing a kiss against his cheek. She could always tell when the stress of the semester’s end weighed heavily on him.
“It’s been a long day,” Alex sighed, dropping his briefcase by the door. “Between grading papers and dealing with faculty meetings, I’m running on fumes.”
