The Watson mansion was unusually tense that evening.
Voices were raised—sharply, angrily.
Jay and Keifer exchanged worried glances as they stepped into the living room.
John and his wife, Jenne, were at it again.
"You never listen to me!" Jenne shouted, her hands flailing.
"I am listening!" John fired back, his face red, voice booming through the hall.
The argument escalated quickly.
Serina and Keizer, Jay and Keifer, even the younger boys—everyone froze, unsure whether to intervene or let it blow over.
Jay stepped forward slowly, but Keifer put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head slightly.
"This isn't ours," he murmured.
Keizer, however, didn't hesitate.
He stepped between John and Jenne, raising his hands calmly but firmly.
"Enough!" he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority.
Both John and Jenne stopped mid-sentence, glaring at him.
Keizer's eyes softened slightly, but his tone remained steady.
"We're a family," he continued. "Yelling at each other like this solves nothing. You can argue, yes—but not like you're tearing each other apart in front of everyone."
John opened his mouth to reply, but Keizer held up a hand.
"Listen. Take a breath. Calm down. Then talk. But do not let this anger ruin what you've built together."
Jenne's shoulders sagged slightly. John ran a hand through his hair, still tense but quieter.
Keizer looked at both of them, firm but kind.
"You're not alone in this. But the fighting stops. Here. Now."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Then John muttered reluctantly, "…Fine."
Jenne nodded, letting out a shaky breath.
Serina stepped forward and placed a hand on Keizer's arm.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Keifer looked at his father with quiet admiration.
Even Jay smiled softly.
The family had stood frozen, yes—but Keizer's calm authority had reminded them all that even the stormiest fights could be controlled… with patience, love, and a steady hand.
And for now, the Watson mansion returned to its usual warmth.