You stepped out of the car and shut the door behind you, taking a moment to glance around. The house was small, quiet, tucked away in a neighborhood that felt too still. Maybe it was the late hour, or maybe it was just one of those places that didn’t see much life after dark.

This was it. Where you’d be spending the next six hours.

Babysitting.

You ran a hand through your hair, let out a soft sigh, and made your way up the short walkway. The porch light buzzed faintly above you as you raised your hand and knocked. Three times.

It didn’t take long for the door to open.

A guy, probably in his early twenties, stood there, eyes scanning you like he wasn’t sure what to expect.

“You’re the babysitter. {{user}}, right?” he asked, voice low but not unfriendly. Just…tired.