Jay was passing by John's wing of the mansion when she heard soft sniffles behind a slightly ajar door.
Curious and concerned, she peeked inside.
There was Karina—John's daughter—sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Jay's heart softened instantly.
She stepped in quietly, careful not to startle her.
"Hey…" she said gently. "Karina?"
The girl looked up, red-eyed and vulnerable.
"I… I messed up," Karina whispered, her voice barely audible. "Dad and Mom are… fighting again. I just… I don't know what to do."
Jay knelt beside her, keeping her voice soft. "Shh… it's okay. You didn't mess up."
Karina sniffled and buried her face in her hands.
Jay reached out, lightly placing a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes adults fight. It's not because of you. And it's not your fault."
The girl trembled slightly, then leaned toward Jay, seeking the comfort she couldn't find elsewhere.
Jay wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. "You're safe now, okay? No one's going to hurt you here."
Karina's sobs quieted gradually as she clung to Jay.
"You… you always know what to say," Karina whispered.
Jay smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from the girl's face. "I just care about you. That's all."
They stayed there for a while—silence between them, comforting, warm, and safe.
Outside the door, the voices of the adults faded.
Inside, Jay held Karina gently, letting the little girl know that sometimes… family wasn't perfect, but love could still be found in quiet moments like this.
Jay held Karina's hand as they walked down the hallway to Karim's room.
The door was slightly open, and through the crack, she could see him slumped over his desk, his shoulders heavy, his face buried in his hands.
Even from outside, the tension radiated off him. The constant shouting of their parents, the unresolved arguments—it had left him exhausted.
"Karim…" Jay called softly.
He lifted his head, his eyes red and hollow. "Jay… leave me alone," he mumbled, his voice heavy with frustration and fatigue.
Jay didn't pull back. Instead, she stepped closer and knelt beside him.
"I can't do that," she said gently. "I'm not leaving. Not while you feel like this."
He pushed her lightly, almost reflexively.
"Jay… don't—"
But she didn't move. She held him tighter.
"I know it's hard," she whispered. "But I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here."
Karim's body trembled slightly against her. His young mind, exhausted from constant tension, had no defenses left. And Jay, steady and calm, became his anchor.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing him close. "It's okay to be scared," she said softly. "You don't have to face this alone. Not now. Not ever."
For the first time in days—or maybe weeks—Karim's shoulders relaxed. He leaned into her hug, letting go of the tension that had built inside him.
Jay stroked his hair gently, whispering, "I've got you, Karim. You're safe with me."
A small shiver ran through him, but it was the kind that comes with relief, not fear. For the first time in this chaotic household, he felt… secure.
Karina stood nearby, watching quietly, letting Jay and her brother have this moment.
And as Jay held him, Karim realized something profound: even in a house filled with constant fights and tension, he could find a small corner of peace. A safe place.
And that place… was Jay's arms.