PHOENIX:
Dinner ended the way it always did—Mom and Aunt Kat elbow-deep in suds, talking over each other like it was their job. They danced around each other in that kitchen like a well-rehearsed routine, clinking dishes, cackling at inside jokes. Out back, Dad and Uncle Blaze disappeared into the garage with cold beers and heavier stories. I didn’t ask.
That left me and Ryder.
Just us, stepping out the front door into the still summer night, the air thick with humidity and crickets buzzing like faulty wiring. Porch light flickering just enough to remind me this was still the same house, still the same town, still the same front yard we used to play tag in barefoot.
I kicked at the gravel. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“It was nice seeing you,” he said finally.
I nodded, not tr
