"What…?"
Liam looked up from the couch, his phone still in hand. Evelyn stood in front of him, arms folded, her perfectly pressed blouse doing nothing to soften the sharp line of her frown. She'd been on his case since breakfast, repeating the same concern in different words.
"You heard me," she said, voice clipped. "Your brother hasn't stepped foot out of his room in a week. The head maid called me and asked me to come and you know… the company can't just run on autopilot while he broods. He has responsibilities, and so do you."
Liam sighed, dragging a hand through his already messy hair. "I know… you can stop bugging me. And please, Mom, just let him be. He'll be okay after a few weeks. It's not like this is his first time locking himself inside his room."
Evelyn's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the elegant, unshakable matriarch of their family looked almost… tired. "This time is different, Liam. Don't pretend you don't notice it. He's not sulking. He's… breaking."
