"You know, I was actually worried."
Tyler raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"You."
"Why?"
Eris thought for a moment. "Because you've been acting strange lately."
Tyler laughed. "Lately?"
"Okay." She corrected herself. "You've always been strange."
"That's rude."
"It's true."
Tyler sighed dramatically. "My own friend abandons me."
"Again with the drama."
"You wound me."
Eris rolled her eyes before quietly saying, "You know you can rely on me, right?"
Tyler's expression softened slightly.
"I know."
The answer came immediately.
Because it was true.
Among all the people in school, Eris was probably the one person he trusted without hesitation. He couldn't quite explain why that trust came so naturally, or why relying on her felt almost instinctive.
It wasn't something that had formed overnight it had been there for as long as he could remember, quietly taking root over the years.
Eventually they reached the road where their routes home would separate.
Eris suddenly stopped walking and turned toward him.
"By the way, you're coming to the party, right?"
Tyler blinked and looked at her. "Coming where?"
Eris stared at him as if she couldn't believe he was asking. "The party, obviously."
The moment she said it, Tyler regretted not changing the topic sooner.
"Well..." he began awkwardly.
"No," Eris interrupted, raising a finger toward him. "I already know that tone. That's the same tone you use whenever you're about to make an excuse."
Tyler let out a long sigh. "Is it really that important? It's just a class gathering."
Eris folded her arms. "Of course it's important. This isn't about seeing classmates during school hours."
"I already see them every day," Tyler argued. "What difference does one gathering make?"
"Because this isn't school," Eris replied firmly. "Everyone will be together outside of classes, without exams, assignments, or teachers breathing down our necks. It's supposed to be a memory we'll look back on later."
Tyler frowned. "I still don't see how that's differ..."
Before he could finish, Eris fixed him with a glare.
It was the kind of glare Tyler had learned to fear after years of friendship.
"Tyler," she said in a low voice, "you're coming."
"But...."
"Tyler."
The warning in her voice was unmistakable.
Tyler looked at her.
Eris looked right back at him.
Neither of them moved as a silent battle unfolded between them. After several seconds, Tyler finally gave up, just as he usually did whenever Eris became this stubborn.
He released a deep sigh. "Fine. I'll come."
Instantly, Eris's expression brightened into a victorious smile.
"Great. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
"Yeah, yeah," Tyler replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll be there at Maccha Café."
Eris blinked in confusion.
"Huh?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Tyler realized his mistake.
Too late.
He had already said it.
Without giving her a chance to question him, he immediately started walking away.
"Well, see you tomorrow," he said, raising a hand in farewell.
Eris remained standing where she was.
"Wait a second."
Tyler kept walking.
"Bye."
"Tyler, hold on."
"Goodbye."
Then he disappeared down the street, leaving Eris alone at the intersection.
For several moments she simply stood there, confused.
Then she slowly frowned.
"Why Maccha Café?"
A month had passed since Vanessa and Steven left the Brown Household, and while the scars they left behind had not disappeared, the chaos surrounding the family had finally begun to settle. The constant knocking on the door had stopped, the angry neighbors demanding repayments had moved on to other matters, and the strangers who used to linger outside the gate asking uncomfortable questions no longer appeared. Melissa could finally walk to the market without feeling dozens of eyes following her every step. From the outside, it looked as though the storm had passed.
Unfortunately, appearances were deceiving.
The silence that replaced the arguments did not bring relief; it merely exposed the problems that had been hidden beneath the noise. The family's financial situation continued to worsen with each passing week. Their savings, which Silas and Melissa had spent years building through careful planning and sacrifice, were steadily shrinking. Silas's work situation had shown little improvement, and the delays in his salary payments continued to create uncertainty every month. Some months they managed to scrape through without touching too much of their savings, while other months felt like watching water leak from a cracked bucket no matter how desperately they tried to stop it.
Melissa sat at the dining table with a notebook spread open before her. Bills, receipts, and handwritten calculations covered nearly every inch of the table. A calculator rested beside her hand as she carefully reviewed each expense. Every few minutes she would stare at a number for a long time before crossing it out and replacing it with a smaller one. The process had become painfully familiar. First she removed unnecessary expenses. Then she reduced things that were technically necessary but could somehow be delayed. Eventually she found herself cutting things she never imagined she would have to touch.
She rubbed her forehead and let out a tired sigh.
For the first time in years, she had begun seriously considering finding part-time work. Perhaps she could help clean someone's house. Maybe she could take sewing jobs from neighbors. Anything that could bring even a little extra income into the household would help. The thought of adding more work to her already exhausting days made her feel drained, but she couldn't simply sit and watch their savings disappear.
Beside her, Nitsi was doing her homework. Every few minutes the little girl would glance toward Melissa's notebook with obvious curiosity before returning to her schoolwork. Eventually her curiosity won.
"Aunt Melissa?"
"Hm?" Melissa responded without looking up.
Nitsi pointed toward the notebook. "What are you doing?"
Melissa smiled faintly and closed the notebook slightly so the numbers wouldn't overwhelm the child. "I'm planning our budget."
Nitsi blinked. "What's a budget?"
Melissa considered how to explain it in a way a child could understand. "A budget is basically a plan for money. It helps us decide how much we can spend and how much we need to save."
The explanation seemed to satisfy Nitsi for approximately three seconds.
"Why do we need a plan?"
Melissa laughed softly. "Because we don't have unlimited money."
"Oh."
Nitsi thought about that seriously before continuing. "So if we spend too much money now..."
"We won't have enough later," Melissa finished for her.
The girl nodded as though she had just learned an important secret about adulthood.
A moment later she pointed toward one of the crossed-out entries in the notebook.
"Why did you remove that?"
Melissa followed her finger and immediately recognized the item.
"We don't really need it right now."
"But you like that one."
The innocent observation made Melissa pause. Nitsi had apparently noticed far more than adults usually gave children credit for.
Melissa smiled gently. "Sometimes we have to choose the important things first."
"Like food?"
"Exactly."
"And electricity?"
"Yes."
"And water?"
Melissa chuckled. "Those too."
Nitsi seemed satisfied until another question suddenly appeared in her mind.
She looked up and quietly asked, "Are we poor?"
Melissa froze.
The question was simple, but hearing it from a child made it unexpectedly painful.
For several seconds she remained silent before reaching over and gently patting Nitsi's head.
"No," she said softly. "We're not poor. We're just having a difficult time right now."
Nitsi studied her face for a moment before nodding.
"Okay."
Children had a remarkable ability to accept answers when they trusted the person giving them.
Melissa looked back down at the notebook.
A difficult time.
That was certainly one way to describe it.
Groceries continued becoming more expensive. Utility bills seemed to increase every month. School expenses never stopped appearing. Every calculation she made ended with the same conclusion: there simply wasn't enough money.
She was still staring at the numbers when the front door opened.
Both she and Nitsi looked up simultaneously.
Tyler had returned home.
The moment Nitsi saw him, her face brightened.
"Aunt Melissa!" she announced dramatically while pointing toward the entrance. "Brother is here!"
Tyler closed the door behind him, removed his shoes, and placed his bag near the wall.
Melissa immediately smiled.
"Welcome home."
"Yeah."
Tyler walked over to the table and glanced at the notebook. It didn't take him long to understand what was happening.
"So what's going on?"
Melissa sighed and leaned back slightly in her chair.
"Nothing special. Just adjusting this month's budget."
Tyler raised an eyebrow.
"You mean cutting it down again?"
Melissa laughed weakly.
"Well, you could say that."
Tyler's gaze shifted from the notebook to his mother's face.
Only now did he fully notice how exhausted she looked.
The dark circles beneath her eyes had become more noticeable. Her shoulders seemed heavier than usual. Even her smile looked tired.
Every day she acted as though everything was fine.
Every day she reassured everyone around her.
Yet Tyler could see the truth.
His mother was exhausted.
Without saying anything, he stepped behind her chair and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
Melissa blinked in surprise.
Then smiled.
"What are you doing?"
Tyler rested his chin lightly on her shoulder.
"Everything is going to be fine."
For a brief moment, Melissa's expression softened. She placed a hand over his arm and looked upward.
Then, as she often did whenever things became difficult, she prayed.
"Sacred Lord Ignaros, please help my family overcome this difficult situation."
Tyler immediately felt irritation rise inside him.
Of course.
Another prayer.
Another plea directed toward the heavens.
Another request sent toward a god who never seemed to answer.
He remained silent while Melissa continued her sincere prayer, but his thoughts were far less respectful.
Who exactly is listening?
The question surfaced automatically.
He didn't listen when Father died.
He didn't listen when our family fell apart.
He didn't listen when everything collapsed in my previous life.
And he's still not listening now.
Tyler looked away.
His frustration with religion had never truly disappeared. Throughout both of his lives he had watched people pray desperately for miracles that never came. They prayed for health, yet people died. They prayed for prosperity, yet families went bankrupt. They prayed for protection, yet tragedy still found them.
Perhaps faith helped people endure suffering.
Perhaps it gave them hope when they had nothing else.
But Tyler had long stopped believing that prayers changed outcomes.
People changed outcomes.
Actions changed outcomes.
Hard work changed outcomes.
Nothing else.
Melissa eventually lowered her gaze and looked toward the children.
"You two should pray too."
Nitsi immediately obeyed. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and adopted such a serious expression that Tyler nearly laughed. The girl looked as though she were preparing to negotiate directly with a divine being.
Melissa smiled proudly before turning toward Tyler.
The look she gave him required no explanation.
Your turn.
Tyler immediately made an annoyed face.
Melissa responded with the legendary mother glare.
A weapon feared by children across every generation.
Tyler surrendered instantly.
"Fine."
He reluctantly closed his eyes while Nitsi looked delighted by her victory and Melissa appeared satisfied.
Internally, however, Tyler questioned why he was even participating.
Still, he folded his hands together and quietly mumbled a few meaningless words. It wasn't a real prayer. It wasn't even a proper sentence. He simply said enough to satisfy his mother.
After all, in his opinion, nobody was actually listening.
Yet despite believing that, Tyler remained standing beside his family with his eyes closed and hands folded. Not because he suddenly found faith, and certainly not because he expected a miracle.
He did it because Melissa believed.
Because Nitsi believed.