My mum opened the door after a few knocks, a massive beam on her face, which instantly vanished at my dismal expression. She pulled me in for a hug and shut the door behind us, ushering me over to the sofa with a comforting arm.

"What happened? What did Rhyse do?" Her deep brown eyes inspected mine as she held me out at arm's length, concern suddenly masking her overworked face.

"It wasn't Rhyse. It was Mrs Amstell-"

"His mum? What did she say?" Mum's whole energy spiked, clearly even more concerned at the mention of Rhyse's mother.

Every time I tried explaining what happened, I sputtered and began crying uncontrollably. My mum pulled me in for another hug, cooing that it was okay and that I could tell her everything until I finally calmed down enough to get my words out.

When I was done clearing up everything that happened, the look of outrage on her face made everything clear; she was not going to just let this slide.

"She said what? This is absolutely outrageous! You're still just a child, how could she say such a thing? How dare she? She's going to see me tomorrow. Her threats mean nothing- anything I even deem past unreasonable force will land her in serious trouble, I'll bloody well make certain of that!"

"You don't have to go tomorrow... please I-"

"What she said was inexcusable, Sophia. She needs to recognize that. What was Rhyse doing, did he not defend you?"

"He tried! His mother was tremendously... overpowering."

Mum sighed and squeezed her temples. "Alright." She kissed my forehead. "You have a shower and relax, okay? I'll talk to your father when he gets back."

I remembered that my dad was still with Mr Amstell. I wondered what Mrs Amstell would do if she saw them together. She might've been (her own way of) lenient with me because I was a child, but my dad was an adult, who knows how she might act. Was she as equally as protective of her husband?

"He's still with Mr Amstell, what if Mrs Amstell-"

Mum shushed me and patted my leg, offering me a consoling smile. "I'll give him a call and let him know. He can talk to Mr Amstell. Don't worry, go look after yourself for now."

I nodded reluctantly. It was probably best to take a shower, go to bed and attempt to sleep away the shock. Dad would likely be fine, he could handle himself.

Upstairs, placed on my pillow with a note on the lock screen was Andrew's iPad. It said, "I know you don't like to talk when you're sad, so I downloaded Inception for you to watch since it's your favourite. Hopefully, it'll be finished by the time you finish in the bathroom."

It was very typical of Andrew to leave a little heartwarming note when anyone in the house was troubled, but to leave his prized iPad for me to use was out of the blue. Nonetheless, I was appreciative for the gesture.