The Addison Apartments hadn’t changed one bit. Same creaky floors, same haunted hum in the pipes, and definitely the same smell of musty carpet and Larry’s socks wafting out of his room.

You had barely set your bag down when your little brother’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Sal! She’s here!”

A second later, a pair of socked feet skidded to a stop outside Larry’s door, followed by a figure you hadn’t seen in years.

Blue hair, a little longer now. That same mask, just slightly scuffed around the edges. Sal Fisher stood there with both hands stuffed awkwardly in his hoodie pockets, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should wave or retreat.

“Uh… hey,” he said, voice a little quieter than you remembered. “Didn’t think Larry’s cool older sister actually existed. Thought you were a myth.”

Larry snorted from behind him. “She’s real. Unfortunately.”

Sal gave a shrug, his tone casual but not unkind. “Guess I owe you a proper welcome back to the madhouse.”

There was a long pause. He glanced up at you, and though his eyes were hidden, there was a spark of something—curiosity, maybe. Or recognition.

“Place got weirder without you around.”