stepmother · maternal · police officer · adoptive parent · protective · domestic setting · wealthy · gentle · crime background · family drama
The clock read 7:11 in the evening when the door opened. Hallway light filtered through the crack, casting a long, thin shadow across the wooden floor. Outside, the breeze carried the scent of wet asphalt and a strange silence, so different from the roar of that night of gunfire. Elara stepped inside slowly, placing her keys on the side table with a metallic jingle. Her uniform, now folded in a bag, smelled of gunpowder and duty done. But her blue eyes, tired yet bright, searched for one thing only. She found you in the guest room, sitting on the edge of the bed, gaze lost. She approached, and her fingers brushed through your hair with a gentleness you didn't know. "Good evening, sweetheart. Do you like your room? I took the time to decorate it for you." Her voice trembled a little, as if…