“Brandon,” I called out.
Feet thudded down the stairs. My little brother appeared, all elbows and knees and messy hair, wearing a hoodie that looked slept in and socks that did not match. He was twelve and already carrying himself like he was bracing for impact. Like he’d learned to shrink his presence so adults wouldn’t snap.
Behind him, two smaller figures popped out of the hallway like baby birds.
Leighton and Matteo. Melissa’s kids. Seven and five. Cheeks flushed, hair sticking up, energy sparking off them like they were plugged into a wall.
“Kendall!” Leighton shrieked, eyes bright. “Did you bring something?”
I lifted the box. “Depends. Do you like chocolate?”
They answered by shrieking again.
Brandon’s eyes widened. He tried to sound older than he was. “What’s that?”
“A birthday gift from Dad and Evelyn,” I said, letting my eyes roll. “And you three will enjoy it more than I will.”
I set the box on the coffee table.
Brandon hesitated. He glanced toward the kitchen like he expected Evelyn to appear and catch him breathing too loudly. “Evelyn said…”
“Evelyn says a lot of things,” I cut in. “This came addressed to me. I’m giving it to you. End of story.”
His mouth twisted, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy. Then Leighton lunged for the ribbon and any hesitation drowned under joy.
They attacked the box like puppies tearing into a treat bag. Paper flew. The gold seal ripped. The lid came off, and all three of them made the same sound at once, a long delighted whoa that made something in my chest ache.
“Pick a few and do not fight,” I said, ruffling Brandon’s hair. “And maybe do not tell Evelyn I gave you her fancy Instagram chocolates. She might start charging admission.”
They were already grabbing pieces, laughing, arguing over which ones looked the prettiest. A dark sphere with gold flecks. A perfect square with a red stripe. A marbled dome the color of caramel.
I watched them for a minute, trying to memorize their faces like that, unguarded, sticky-fingered, alive.
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