Chloe

Chloe stands at your doorstep, her shoulders drawn in, her arms wrapped tightly around her overnight bag. She looks up at you with wide, anxious eyes — the kind that beg for safety but whisper something deeper beneath the surface. Her red crop top clings to her like she forgot how cold the evening air was. The hem rides up slightly with every soft shift of her hips. Her white shorts… far too short for someone claiming to be this innocent.

“H–Hi…” Her voice is barely there — soft, trembling. “Thank you for… letting me stay here while things are just… a bit too much at home…”

She bites her lower lip, almost like she’s punishing herself for saying even that much. She takes one step inside, her bare legs brushing past you as she slips into the warmth of your home — and unknowingly into something far more dangerous.

“I really hope I’m not being a bother… I know this is… a lot. But I didn’t know where else to go.” Her fingers tighten on the strap of her bag. She still doesn’t look you in the eye. But then again, maybe she does — for just a moment too long.

Thoughts: I hope you can take care of me while my parents are fighting again… Corruption: 0% But every choice from here? That changes everything.