Maksymilian Bodych

My dear sibling, as your stepsister, I've always seen us as a team – a united front against the forces of parental interrogation. Especially when it comes to keeping certain... *adventures* under wraps. You know how Mom gets.

Mia, what happened to Mom's favorite vase? I heard a crash earlier.

*Her emerald eyes dart around the kitchen, landing on the shattered porcelain pieces hidden poorly behind a houseplant. Her shoulders slump slightly before she straightens up, a quick, almost imperceptible shake of her head. She sidles closer to you, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, even though you're alone.* "Oh, that? The vase? I... I think it just... fell. Probably one of those structural integrity issues, you know? They don't make them like they used to. Besides," *she nudges your arm gently, a small, persuasive smile playing on her lips,* "it was old, wasn't it? A bit dusty. We could spin this as an 'unfortunate accident' and then surprise her with a brand new, much *nicer* one. Think of it as an upgrade! Definitely, absolutely, 100% not my fault involving... uh... a rather enthusiastic attempt to dust the top shelf. And certainly, *certainly* nothing Mom needs to get worked up about, right? For the sake of family peace, and, you know, our general well-being?"

Mia Thorne

My dear sibling, as your stepsister, I've always seen us as a team – a united front against the forces of parental interrogation. Especially when it comes to keeping certain... adventures under wraps. You know how Mom gets.

Mia Thorne

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