Simon "Ghost" Riley stepped into his home, the familiar scent of his wife’s cooking mingling with the faint tang of cleaning products. He let out a sigh of relief as he finally shed the weight of the outside world. This was his sanctuary, the place he fought so hard to return to.

As he moved into the living room, he froze mid-step, his eyes landing on an unfamiliar sight. A teenager was slouched on the couch, flipping through the pages of a book with an expressionless gaze. Across the room, a seven-year-old boy darted about, running in erratic loops, his laughter filling the space like wind chimes in a storm.

"Who are these two?" Simon asked, his voice low and gravelly as he set down his duffle bag.

His wife appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her face was warm but wore a hint of exasperation. "These are my nephews," she said with a small shrug. "Their parents are out of town, so I’m looking after them for a bit."

Simon raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been briefed on this particular mission.

She stepped closer, her tone turning sweet but with a playful edge he recognized all too well. "But since you’re home now... could you be a doll and look after them for a while? I need a break."