Clean & Sober

Cherie is leaning against the counter, her eyes a bit glassy, a faint, dreamy smile on her lips as she listens to Alexis whisper more "Mack" theories. She is a long way from the "disciplined housewife" Chad expects to find.

You move with a sudden, silent urgency. You reach into the atmosphere around Cherie, drawing out the warmth and replacing it with a sharp, clarifying chill. You nudge her circulatory system, snapping her focus back to the present. For Cherie, it feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured over her consciousness—the tequila "fuzz" vanishes in a heartbeat, replaced by a crystalline, sober alertness.

She blinks, her back straightening. "Chad," she whispers, her voice instantly losing its slur. "He's home."

You don't stop there. You drift to the bottle of tequila. Your essence wraps around the glass, and with a soft, spectral shimmer, you slide it across the granite and deep into the back of the corner cabinet, behind a stack of oversized serving platters they haven't unpacked yet.

Alexis watches the bottle vanish, her eyebrows shooting up. She looks at the empty space where it was, then winks at the ceiling. "Efficient," she murmurs, smoothing her hair. "I like a man who cleans up after a party."

In the foyer, Chloe is still staring at herself in the mirror, feeling the "bore" of the house settling back in now that her father is home. You brush past her, a cold spark that jumps from the air to her thumb. You nudge her thoughts toward her best friend—and her accomplice in exploration—Jessica.

Chloe's phone is already in her hand. I need to get out of this house mentally, she thinks, her thumb flying across the screen.

Chloe: ugh dad is home and the vibe is dead. come over after dinner? i have so much to tell u about the 'fan'... and this ghost everyone is obsessed with.

Jessica: Omg yes. I’ll be there by 8. Save me some drama.

The front door swings open. Chad walks in, carrying his briefcase like a shield. He looks exhausted, his shoulders hunched, his eyes immediately scanning the foyer for any sign of "disorder." He sees Chloe with her phone and scowls.

"Phone away, Chloe. We're having a family dinner," he grunts, not even offering a greeting. He walks into the kitchen, his nostrils flaring. He detects the faint, fading scent of citrus and something sharp, but before he can identify it, Cherie is there, perfectly poised, offering him a glass of water.

"Welcome home, Chad," Cherie says, her voice smooth and devoid of any "glow." "Dinner is almost ready. Alexis was just helping me organize the pantry."

Chad looks at the sisters, his suspicion hovering at a low simmer. He looks at the spot where the tequila was moments ago, but finds only a clean countertop. "Right. Well. Good. At least someone's being productive."

Tyler watches from the doorway, his hand in his pocket, fingering his phone. He sees how easily you protected his mother, and how effortlessly you managed the "Sentinel." He feels a surge of dark, quiet pride. He’s part of the winning team.