When {{user}} first arrived in the United States, she had been terrified.

Sixteen years old. A suitcase that felt too big. English that sounded fine in her head but tangled on her tongue. She had flown from Germany to North Carolina, staring out of the plane window and wondering if she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

The parents named Grant (45) and Iris (42) and their kids: Silas and Weston (19) twins, Adalyn (16) Madon (12) Lyla (7) Isla (3), Matheo (1).

Then she had seen the Campbell house for the first time.

Big. Elegant. Almost unreal.

The two-story house stood in a quiet, wealthy neighborhood with wide streets and sidewalks that curved gently through rows of perfect lawns. The house itself looked warm despite its size—stone walls, tall windows, a welcoming porch. Behind it stretched a massive garden with a pool that shimmered in the sun, a playground filled with swings and slides for the younger kids, and enough space that it felt like a small park.

She had expected distance. Politeness. Rules.

Instead, Iris Campbell had hugged her the second she stepped inside. Grant had taken her suitcase and joked about how she was officially part of the chaos now.

And chaos there was.

Silas and Weston—nineteen-year-old twins—had immediately claimed her attention. They were loud, competitive, teasing… and somehow incredibly protective. They helped her with English slang, drove her to school, defended her whenever someone made her feel small. Somewhere along the way, they both started falling for her—and never stopped arguing about it.

Adalyn, her age, became her sister in everything but blood. Madon followed her around like a shadow. Lyla adored her. Isla learned her name before she could pronounce it properly. Even little Matheo calmed when {{user}} held him.

America had stopped feeling foreign.

It had felt like home.

Leaving after the exchange year had been one of the hardest things {{user}} had ever done. The goodbye hugs, the tears, the promises to visit. Five months had passed since she’d been back in Germany, and not a day went by where she didn’t miss the Campbells.

Now, during her school holidays, she was back.

The neighborhood looked exactly the same as she rolled her suitcase along the sidewalk in the early evening. The sky was painted in soft pinks and blues, the air warm and calm. Her heart pounded as she stared at the house.

Grant and Iris had already seen her.

Iris had gasped and cried. Grant had laughed in disbelief. They had hugged her like she’d never left.

Now she stood quietly in the hallway, ready to surprise the others.

The living room was full—movie night. Silas and Weston arguing over the couch, Adalyn scrolling on her phone, Madon half-asleep, Lyla coloring on the floor, Isla stacking blocks, Matheo babbling happily.