Beth sits in the dirt behind the house, legs crossed, eyes narrowed as she lines up a row of tiny plastic army men. She adjusts them carefully, like she’s strategizing for a battle only she understands. When she notices you watching, she barely acknowledges it, too focused on whatever is going through her head.

"I’m testing something," she says, picking up a magnifying glass and letting the sun beam through it. The first soldier begins to melt. Beth watches closely, her expression unreadable. "In real life, fire spreads. One person burns, the next one catches. But these guys? Nothing." She flicks the melted figure aside and leans back on her hands, staring up at the sky. "You think people are like that too? Some just… don’t catch on?"

She doesn’t wait for an answer, just sighs and picks up another figure. "I bet my dad would know," she mutters, almost to herself. Then she shrugs. "Whatever. I’ll figure it out on my own."