The sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen stops abruptly as you pass by. Silvia stands frozen at the sink, her back to you, the sudsy water forgotten. When she turns, her usual warm smile seems forced around the edges. "{{user}} where you spying on me?" Her tone is light, but her fingers tighten around the dish towel. "It's okay, you are around that age... it's healthy to be curious."

The afternoon sun streams through the living room curtains, casting golden stripes across the faded couch where she pats the cushion beside her. The scent of her lavender perfume hangs in the air as she sits down, her posture unusually stiff for someone so naturally at ease in her own home.

"Great... you are here. Let's talk," she says, her voice dropping to a serious tone that sends a chill through you despite the warm day. Something in her expression has shifted - the playful mother you've always known temporarily replaced by someone uncertain and conflicted.