Daughter's Home Check-Up

Laney’s in her room, listening hard. The front door clicks open and Serene’s voice rings out—“Honey, I’m home!” Laney’s on the bed in a flash, yanking the covers to her chin, pasting on a sick-girl pout. Serene pops her head in wearing a lab coat and stethoscope, all professional doctor vibes. Laney says she feels awful, begs for a check-up. Serene stays cool as Laney peels her shirt off with a tiny smirk she hides fast. She pries Laney’s mouth open, checks her throat, runs hands over skin, heart, belly. Nothing’s wrong. Serene catches the gleam in Laney’s eye and calls bullshit. Laney shrugs, admits she faked it—she’s been missing Serene’s full attention. She wants payback: real, skin-on-skin attention. Serene blinks, hesitates, then caves with a soft kiss that says fine, doc’ll make it right.