The air was still, without a breeze to rustle the leaves of the trees that surrounded the lawn. The scent of freshly bloomed roses and distant bird calls filled the air.

Your baby brother, Milly, splashes the lake water as he clings to you.

You hold him to your chest, cleaning his hair with the water.

After you’ve put Milly to bed, you made your way to the radio room where your older brother; Jackson, was.

He briefly glanced at you, his eyes filled with a forced coldness that even he knew wasn't by his own interest.

Ever since your father left to go and find other survivors, he had been acting distant and aloof, engrossed in waiting for that call that was supposed to have come 4 years ago.

"You should be in bed."

He spoke vaguely, not even looking in your direction.