INT. LARRY’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – EVENING
The air is tense. Bethany stands near the coffee table, Brooke’s phone in her hand. Larry stands beside her, jaw tight. Brooke faces them — exhausted and frustrated.
BETHANY: Do you want to explain these messages?
BROOKE: You checked my phone?
LARRY: Answer the question, Brooke.
BROOKE: You had no right.
BETHANY: You’ve been sending inappropriate messages to Isaiah.
BROOKE: They were jokes. Private jokes. And I’m not a child.
LARRY: You live in this house. You follow rules.
BROOKE: Rules? Or control?
Silence fills the room.
BROOKE: You’re suffocating me. Every day it’s something. Don’t talk to this person. Don’t laugh too much. Don’t text after nine. Don’t breathe wrong.
BROOKE: I’m old enough to understand what’s right and wrong. But you’re making me feel like I can’t think for myself.
LARRY: We are your guardians.
BROOKE: Then act like guardians. Not prison guards.
BETHANY: You’re being dramatic.
BROOKE: No. I’m being honest.
She runs upstairs. The door slams.
INT. BROOKE’S ROOM – NIGHT
Brooke sits on the floor, hugging her knees. Destiny kneels beside her.
DESTINY: They went too far.
BROOKE: They don’t trust me. They think I’m some mistake waiting to happen.
DESTINY: This isn’t protection anymore. It’s mental torture.
DESTINY: I’m calling Sharra.
INT. SHARRA’S HOUSE – NIGHT
SHARRA: What happened?
DESTINY: Bethany and Larry are destroying Brooke mentally. You need to come.
SHARRA: I’m on my way.
INT. BROOKE’S ROOM – LATER
Sharra arrives. Brooke runs into her arms, crying uncontrollably.
BROOKE: I can’t do this anymore.
SHARRA: I’m here. You’re not alone.
BETHANY: She’s manipulating you.
SHARRA: No. She’s breaking.
DESTINY: You don’t see what you’re doing to her.
LARRY: This is my house.
SHARRA: And she’s not your property.
SHARRA: I want her safe.
SHARRA: Pack a small bag.
BETHANY: She’s not going anywhere.
LARRY: If she walks out that door…
The sentence remains unfinished. The tension is unbearable.