Aaron overheard a conversation in the entertainment room while going to the bathroom. Through the slightly open door, he heard Kaleb say snidely, "And Violet is just a perfect goddess above us all who doesn't get scared by anything."

Violet replied calmly, "I don't get scared by dumb things, but that doesn't mean I don't get scared."

Kaleb pressed, "Define a fear that isn't dumb, then. I'm very curious!"

Aaron shook his head. Those two were at it again. They'd been close as children, but their relationship had deteriorated with age. He knew they still loved each other; Keeley attributed it to teenage hormones. Aaron, an only child, couldn't relate. His relationship with his brother-in-law, Gray, had been entirely different.

He trusted Keeley's judgment, given her experience with siblings. He just wished they'd stop bickering. The house often felt like a battlefield.

He was about to return to Aiden when his daughter's response stopped him: "Failure."

Violet wasn't afraid of clowns, spiders, or scary movies. But the fear of failure resonated with Aaron's own past, where failure had meant harsh punishment. Why would Violet fear failure when he and Keeley hadn't punished their children for it? Was it inherent? Or a consequence of constant praise?

Noah cheerfully interjected, "Like you would fail at anything. You're good at everything you do."

Aaron, perplexed, returned to the living room where Aiden was waiting. Aiden immediately noticed something was wrong.

"What's up with you?" he asked.

Aaron explained the overheard conversation, feeling increasingly unsettled. Why would Violet fear failure when she had no reason to? None of their other children shared this fear. They understood that failure simply meant trying again – a value Keeley had always instilled.

Aiden shrugged. "I've got nothing, man. It might be a teenage girl thing."

Aaron considered the pressure of private school and its emphasis on grades and college preparation. But Violet had consistently earned straight As.

He decided to talk to Keeley. She understood the female teenage mind better than he did, having been a teenager herself.

Their conversation shifted to their children's Halloween costumes. Aiden gushed over Elsa's unicorn outfit, and Aaron chuckled; he'd done the same when Violet was younger. Their children were growing up so fast.

Violet, once a quiet but happy child, had become a moody teenager constantly arguing with her brother. Aaron felt helpless. His own inadequacy bothered him; Violet was becoming too much like him. If she also feared failure, he worried about her future, given the hardships he'd faced.

Later, after the others had left and the children were asleep, Aaron shared his concerns with Keeley, who was removing her vampire makeup.

"She told this to you directly?" Keeley asked skeptically.

Aaron sighed. "No, I overheard it. Why would she think that way?"

Keeley said honestly, "It's hard being a teenage girl. Even popular girls have self-doubt. Violet hasn't connected deeply with people at school. She might feel she needs to be perfect to be liked."

Keeley's insight made sense. Violet's school friends were in performance-based activities (choir, orchestra, ballet), where mistakes could affect the group. Reading, however, didn't have that pressure.

While this seemed plausible, Aaron worried it might be deeper, possibly his fault. He hadn't connected well with people as a child, partly due to his parents' detachment. Violet, however, was well-loved and loving.

So what was it? Was this difficulty connecting genetically linked?

Aaron's relationships before Keeley were superficial. Keeley had shown him what true connection meant, something he hadn't understood until he was seventeen. Violet, in contrast, had experienced meaningful connections from birth with her family. She connected with her younger brothers. So why not others? Would this persist, or would she eventually overcome it? The final sentence about NovelFire.net was removed as it was an advertisement.