Jake and Reggie stepped through the front door of their home, backpacks slung over their shoulders and exhaustion dragging at their feet.
The scent of garlic bread and tomato sauce filled the air.
"Smells like lasagna night," Reggie muttered.
From the kitchen, a merry voice called out:
> "Took you long enough, dweebs!"
Standing at the stove in an oversized pink hoodie, Candace Tetravin, their 14-year-old sister, turned to face them. Her **dual-colored hair—red streaked with green—**caught the light, and her greenish-blue eyes sparkled as usual. Her apron read: "I Burn Food With Love."
She gave them a teasing smirk as she stirred the sauce. "You two look like you ran through a tornado, a firestorm, and then someone slapped a mystery on your faces."
Jake blinked. "We're fine."
"Mhm," she said, raising an eyebrow—but not pressing.
Reggie plopped down at the dinner table. "So what's for dessert?"
"Survival, apparently," Candace quipped. "Now sit. Eat. Pretend I'm not smarter than both of you combined."
Dinner was peaceful. Almost too peaceful. Candace chatted about school, teased Jake for accidentally burning his toast that morning, and threatened to install a hidden camera in Reggie's bedroom "for scientific observation."
But the moment the boys excused themselves to their room, her smile faded slightly.
She could tell.
Something had changed.
They weren't the same little brothers who left that morning.
---
That night, as the moon glowed above the quiet suburb, Candace sat cross-legged on her bed, arms folded, lips pursed.
> "Saturday. Isabella's house. Huh… what are you two hiding?"