CHAPTER 442: CHAPTER 442: RESTRICTIONS OVER (PART 2)

A week had now slipped by, the kind where days blurred without much warning. The city had been loud in its own quiet way—sirens in the distance, the sound of restless news anchors, citizens and now this: the Green Thorns case declared over.

The TV in the living room of the Bright residence was doing its best to sound victorious.

"...no longer a threat to the city," the commissioner, Gordon Bateman, was saying, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the mayor and, oddly enough, the state governor. All three were smiling for the cameras. Between their polished speeches and practiced nods, the agenda was as thick as the suits they wore.

At the Bright Penthouse, breakfast was underway in the dining area.

Don sat at the head of the table, plain white shirt, black sweatpants, plate nearly empty. A small black notebook rested in front of him. His pen scratched steadily against the paper, pausing only for a bite of toast or a sip from his coffee.

Opposite him, Samantha was half-focused on her food, half in conversation with Amanda. She wore a loose brown blouse with soft, flowy pants—comfort over style.

Amanda had gone more casual-rugged: white vest, open brown flannel, ripped blue jeans. Summer slouched at the side, hoodie and short shorts, legs folded under her, fork in one hand and her phone in the other, casually texting and even switching apps.

Amanda leaned back slightly in her chair, chewing on a piece of avocado toast as she spoke. "If you’re serious about keeping fit, sis, try adding oats with almond milk in the morning. Or grilled salmon and veggies for lunch."

Samantha raised her brows. "Mm, that does sound nice."

"And for snacks—nuts, maybe some Greek yogurt. Or just fruit." Amanda swallowed, then gave a quick smirk. "But why the sudden interest? Don’t tell me some delaygram or TokTik reel scared you. I still remember you almost dyeing your hair black back in college because of one."

"That never happened," Samantha said quickly, cheeks coloring just enough to notice. "I was just... thinking it’d be nice to get more in shape. For... proper living... and stamina."

Her eyes flicked toward Don without meaning to, a short glance that didn’t stay long enough to draw Amanda’s attention.

"Right," Amanda said, drawing the word out with mild sarcasm. "Well, no biggie. I’ve been hitting the gym here anyway—miss doing farm work. I can put together a regime and a diet for you."

She turned her head toward Summer. "Wanna join us? Put some muscle on those thighs. If anyone can pull off the thick toned thighs look, it’s you."

Summer frowned without looking up from her phone. "Physical labor? Gross. No thanks. I’ve got work to do on my project."

"Lazy ass," Don said without lifting his gaze from the notebook.

Summer’s head snapped toward him. "What did you say?"

He shrugged once, pen still moving.

Before she could fire back, the mayor’s voice from the TV caught the room’s attention.

"...so starting this week, parents can expect to see their children back in school, and they, along with other working individuals, will be able to return to work. There will still be weekly screenings to ensure no more... incidents occur. For those unsure about public learning, most institutions have been advised to promote distance learning programs for select courses and grades. The decision falls upon the parent—"

Summer groaned, turning to Samantha. "Please don’t tell me you’re going to make me go to physical classes, Mom."

Samantha hesitated. "Well... it depends, sweetie. You’re almost done with school anyway—so is there really a need?"

"Yes!" Summer sat up straighter, dropping her fork onto the plate with a small clink~. "I want to start freelance inventing and modding. If I start now, I can build up to internships—or even scholarships—before I graduate."

Amanda stabbed another bite of breakfast, glancing between them. "Any idea what any of that means, Don?"

"I think it means she wants to create sex robots or something," Don said without looking up.

Amanda smirked, almost laughing but stopping herself, and nodded as though it made perfect sense. "Hmm. That does sound important."

Summer’s glare could have set the table on fire. "Shut up. I mean real projects—android-level stuff like Winter. I’ve even been tweaking Sparky." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Gave him better traction, improved his battery life, rewired his camera sensors for faster visual processing."

Don finally looked up, scratching his chin. "No wonder I haven’t seen him in a while. Poor guy became the test subject of the most unstable person in this house."

Summer took offense to these words but stopped herself from clapping back, instead focusing on Samantha.

Samantha still looked uncertain, her fork hovering over the last bit of scrambled eggs as if it might give her an answer. Her gaze shifted toward Don for a moment—half-expecting him to say something, maybe take the weight off her shoulders the way he and Amanda usually did with Summer.

In the last few weeks, she’d realized something—Don and Amanda handled Summer better than she did. It wasn’t that she didn’t try, but with everyone under the same roof more often now—no school, fewer work runs—disagreements had become part of the daily background noise. Small ones, mostly. Occasionally bigger. But they never spiraled, not when Don or Amanda stepped in.

Now neither seemed interested in helping.

"I’m not too sure, honey," Samantha finally said, soft but steady. "Maybe let’s discuss it with your teachers and see if they agree, okay?"

It wasn’t a no. But Summer heard it as one.

She shoved back her chair with a scrape~ and stood, shoulders squared, voice loud. "That’s not fair! Don gets to do whatever he wants and you don’t say anything! I’m a grown-up too, why can’t you treat me the same? Ugh! I hate this!"

The last words came sharp but stopped short of anything worse. She didn’t slam her plate, didn’t throw anything—just turned and stalked out, hoodie swaying behind her.

"Summer, wait! Summer!" Samantha called after her, pushing back from her own seat as if she might follow.

The sound of steps hit the living area tiles, then softened into carpet. Summer’s figure vanished around the hallway corner.

Samantha’s lips parted like she might call out again, but the thought died in her throat. She sat back down instead, exhaling a slow sigh. "Why is she misunderstanding what I’m trying to say?" Her voice shook just slightly. She turned toward Don and Amanda. "Goodness, I just don’t know how to get through to her sometimes. Was I wrong?"

Neither looked particularly surprised.

Amanda’s smile hadn’t faded, like she’d just been watching a mildly amusing scene from a sitcom. "You know how she can be during that time of the month, Sam. Lemme go talk to her."

She downed the last of her juice in one go~ and stood.

Samantha gave a small nod, tone hopeful. "Please do. Tell her if her teachers don’t mind, then I don’t either."

"Will do." Amanda’s flannel shifted loosely over her shoulders as she walked out, her steps softening into the same hallway Summer had disappeared into.

For a moment, the dining area was quiet except for the faint drone of the TV. Samantha turned to Don with a small, tired, but warm smile.

"No need to feel bad, Mom," Don said, not lifting his eyes from his notebook. "You didn’t say anything wrong. Upsetting Summer is easier than... well, than making a telenovela end happily."

Samantha chuckled at that despite herself. "Don’t tease your sister, honey. You know how she can be."

"Fine, fine. Besides... I’d much rather tease you."

Her cheeks flushed instantly. She glanced toward the living room as if checking for witnesses, then lowered her voice. "Behave... what if they hear you say that to me?"

"I meant with words," Don said, finally glancing up. His smirk widened a touch. "What were you thinking—oh... so that’s what’s on your mind, huh, Mom?"

Samantha’s blush deepened. "N-no, I just meant—" She stopped, frowning faintly. "Wait.. you’re teasing me again, aren’t you?"

Don only gave a slow, playful shrug before standing up and stepping over to stand behind her chair. His arms slid loosely around her shoulders, just enough to count as a hug. "Really, don’t worry about the resident princess. She’ll calm down by lunch—depending on what you cook."

The thought seemed to spark something in her. She perked up, her tone lighter. "That’s a great idea! It’s been forever since we had a big family all-you-can-eat. And—ou! Since restrictions have loosened, why not ask your friends to come too? I can even ask Claire as well..."

Her voice trailed off into thought.

Don had already stepped back, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

From the hallway, Winter’s voice cut in, calm and monotone as always. "Excuse me. You have guests."