My keys jangle like warning bells as I hesitate outside my own front door. It's just past nine, and the yellow porch light casts long shadows across the welcome mat that feels anything but welcoming right now. I've been dreading this moment all day.

I take a deep breath and slide my key into the lock, wincing at the familiar click. The door swings open to reveal Evelyn sitting ramrod straight on our living room couch, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that screams controlled fury. She's got that look in her eyes, the one that makes my stomach twist like I've swallowed a fistful of live worms.

"You're late," she says, her voice deceptively soft. There's no greeting, no warmth, just accusation floating in the air between us. “Again!”

"I don't have a curfew, Evelyn," I say, dropping my backpack by the door with a thud that feels too loud in the tense silence. "I'm in college now."

Her eyes narrow, tracking my every movement as I step into the living room. The TV's off, which means she's been sitting here in silence, just waiting for me to walk through the door. The thought makes my skin crawl.

"Well, don't you think I want to go home too?" she snaps, her voice rising slightly. "I have a life outside of this house, Seth."

The guilt hits me like a sucker punch. I hadn't even considered that she might be stuck here waiting for me.

"I'm sorry, you're right," I mumble, running a hand through my already messy hair. "I should have texted or something."

Evelyn's expression softens just a fraction, but there's still something dangerous lurking behind her eyes. She stands up, smoothing down her jeans with practiced precision.

"Were you with your girlfriend again?"

"Yes," I reply, unable to keep the defensive edge from my voice.

She clicks her tongue against her teeth, a sharp sound of disapproval that echoes through the quiet house. It's the same sound she used to make when I'd come home with mud on my shoes as a kid.

"Look, I'm dating the Harris twins and…"

"The Harris twins?" she cuts me off mid-sentence, her voice rising to a pitch I've rarely heard before. "Both of them?”

"Yeah, both of them," I say, watching her face contort with shock.

"You finally worked up the courage to ask them out?" she hisses, taking a step toward me. Her eyes flash with something dark I've never seen before. "Don't you remember what I told you then, Seth? That they'd only want you for your body?"

She must have said that to the other Seth.

Evelyn advances, her movements almost predatory. "Popular girls who see boys as nothing but playthings."

With each word, she takes another step forward, forcing me to retreat until my back hits the wall. I'm trapped between the cold drywall and her increasingly agitated presence.

"They won't love you, Seth," she whispers, close enough that I can feel her breath on me. "They just want what's between your legs. That's all you are to them, a trophy, a toy, a body to use."

I barely have time to open my mouth before she lunges forward, slamming me against the wall with shocking force. Her hands pin my shoulders, fingers digging in so hard I wince. I struggle to break free, but it's useless, she's got me completely immobilized.

"Jesus, Evelyn!" I gasp, genuinely stunned by her strength. It's like trying to push against concrete. My muscles strain uselessly against her grip, making me feel pathetically weak. "Let go of me!"

"You're being manipulated," she hisses, her face inches from mine. "They're using you, Seth. Can't you see that?"

I stop struggling, trying to calm my racing heart. "You're wrong. I'm not just some toy to them. They actually like me, and I like them. This is real."

"You're being an idiot," she snaps, her eyes wild with an emotion I can't quite place. "Those girls will never care about you. They're just bored rich girls looking for entertainment."

"Look," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the fear crawling up my spine, "the only reason I'm even telling you about them is because they're sleeping over this weekend. I wanted to give you a heads-up."

Her face transforms instantly, all color draining away. "They're what? Absolutely not. I forbid it."

A laugh escapes me, though there's no humor in it. "You forbid it? You're not my mother, Evelyn. You can't forbid me from doing anything."

"I'm responsible for this household when your mother isn't here," she says, her voice trembling with rage.

"Mom already said it's fine," I counter, finally managing to twist one arm free of her grasp. "She texted me back earlier. She doesn't care."

Evelyn releases me so suddenly I almost stumble. She takes a step back, her face a mask of disbelief and something else, betrayal, maybe?

"Your mother doesn't understand what's best for you," she says quietly. "She never has."

"It doesn’t matter!" I snap, frustration boiling over. "It's her house, and her word is all that matters!"

I barely finish my sentence before Evelyn lunges forward again, pinning me back against the wall. This time, she grabs both my wrists in one fluid motion, forcing them above my head. Her grip is like iron, and I'm shocked by how easily she restrains me.

"No, Seth," she whispers, her voice dropping to something husky and familiar. "My word is what matters in this house."

Before I can protest, her lips are on my neck, hot and insistent. She starts kissing all my sensitive spots, the ones she discovered years ago during what she called our "practice sessions." A shiver runs through me, part memory, part revulsion.

"Evelyn, stop," I say, twisting my head away. "I'm not in the mood for this right now."

She doesn't listen, just continues trailing kisses down my throat, her free hand sliding up under my shirt.

"Let me make you feel good, Seth," she murmurs against my skin. "Give me a chance to show you what real affection feels like. Those girls don't…"

"Are you playing doctor again?"

The small, sleepy voice cuts through the room like a bucket of ice water. Evelyn freezes against me, her lips still pressed to my neck. We both turn to see Chris standing at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. He's in his dinosaur pajamas with little bows on their heads, hair sticking up in all directions, looking groggy and confused.

Evelyn releases me instantly, stepping back so fast she nearly trips over the coffee table. Her face transforms, the predatory look vanishing behind a mask of nurturing concern.

"Chris, sweetie! What are you doing up so late?" she asks, her voice unnaturally high.

I slide away from the wall, putting as much distance between us as possible while trying to look normal for my brother. My wrists throb where she gripped them, and I can still feel the ghost of her lips on my neck.

"I heard voices," Chris mumbles, blinking slowly at us. "Were you playing doctor like when I was little?"

My stomach twists with nausea. I'd forgotten about that, how Evelyn used to "examine" me.

"No, buddy," I say, forcing a smile that feels brittle on my face. "Evelyn and I were just having a grown-up talk."

Chris yawns, seemingly satisfied with this answer. "Can I have some water?"

Evelyn springs into action, her entire demeanor shifting like a chameleon changing colors. "Of course," she coos, brushing past me to head toward the kitchen. "Let me get that for you right away."

I watch her retreating back, grateful for Chris's interruption. My wrists still ache from her grip, and I can feel my pulse hammering in my throat where her lips had been moments ago.

Chris shuffles over to me, his dinosaur pajamas dragging slightly on the floor. "Are you okay, Seth?" he whispers, his brown eyes wide with concern that seems too mature for his nine-year-old face.

"Yeah, buddy. I'm fine," I lie, ruffling his already messy hair.

Evelyn returns with a plastic cup decorated with cartoon princes. She hands it to Chris with that special smile she reserves just for him, warm and genuine in a way that makes her earlier behavior seem like a fever dream.

"Here you go, sweetie. Nice and cold, just how you like it."

Chris takes the cup in both hands and tilts his head back, gulping the water down in big, exaggerated swallows. When he finishes, he lets out an exaggerated "Ahhhhh!" that breaks some of the tension in the room. A few droplets cling to his chin, which he wipes away with the back of his hand.

"Thanks," he says, handing the empty cup back to Evelyn. "Okay, I'm going back to bed now. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, little guy," I say, relief washing over me as Chris turns and heads back toward the stairs. "Sweet dreams."

He pauses at the bottom step, looking back at us with sleepy eyes. "Are you coming up too, Seth?"

I nod quickly, grateful for the excuse to escape. "Yeah, I'll be right there. Just gonna grab my backpack."

Chris trudges up the stairs, each step punctuated by a little yawn that makes my heart twist with protective love. Once he's out of sight, the air between Evelyn and me turns electric again, but not in a good way.

"This conversation isn't over," she whispers, her voice like a razor wrapped in silk.

I grab my backpack from where I dropped it by the door, slinging it over my shoulder like armor.

"Yes, it is.”