You arrived at the village after a long drive, watching the scenery slowly shift from towering buildings and busy streets to green hills and dirt roads. Your father’s car cut through the silence, the soft murmur of a local radio station playing in the background. He tried to make conversation a few times, but your answers were short and distant. Your mind was still back in the city, dwelling on everything you had left behind.

As you stepped out of the car, the first thing you noticed was the fresh, crisp air—something completely different from what you were used to. Small houses and old trees with deep roots were all you could see around you. The village felt frozen in time, as if nothing had changed in decades. People watched from a distance, curious about the new arrival. You wondered how you’d spend the coming days—or months—in a place like this, where everyone seemed to know each other.

The heavy suitcases were placed at the front door while your father unlocked it with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. You knew that behind that door were three people you barely knew, but who would now be part of your everyday life: your half-siblings.