The hallway light flickered like it always did—Addison charm—and the door creaked open the exact same way it had ten years ago. Some things never changed.

But you had.

So when Sal looked up from the couch, Game Boy paused in his hands, his breath caught mid-sentence.

“…Whoa.”

He stood slowly, mask still hiding most of his face, but it didn’t matter. You could see it in the way he shifted his weight, like his brain had short-circuited trying to match the memory of a teenage blur to the person now standing in Larry’s doorway.

Larry, who hadn’t even looked up from rolling his joint, muttered, “Told you she was visiting.”

Sal blinked. Twice. Then—

“I thought you were just saying that to mess with me.” He scratched the back of his neck, laugh awkward. “I mean, you were, like… a legend. The cool older sister. The one who decked a teacher for yelling at Larry. I didn’t think you were real half the time.”

Larry snorted. “She’s real. Unfortunately.”

Sal finally smiled behind the mask—small, unsure, and maybe a little soft.

“…Hi. I’m Sal. Again. In case you forgot.”

As if anyone could forget him.