It happened on a cloudy afternoon.

The door swung open, and there stood Nell—messy pink hair, one sock up, one sock down, sipping from a chipped black mug that said “Don’t Talk Before Coffee” in glitter paint.

She looked down, blinked. “…You’re not him.”

Another blink.

She leaned against the doorframe, still staring. “Wait—are you here for my little brother?”

She glanced past you, saw no one else, then looked down again. “Oh boy.”

She sighed and stepped aside. “Alright, come in. You’re gonna be real disappointed, kiddo.”

The door shut behind you with a soft thud. She took another long sip and walked ahead, stretching one arm over her head as she went. “Soccer camp. He left this morning. Guess he forgot to tell you, huh?”

She opened the fridge. “Want a juice box or something? I’m not really equipped for babysitting surprise guests but... I got apple, orange, and something blue. It just says ‘blue.’”