The knock at your door is light, almost hesitant, like whoever’s there debated even doing it. When you pull it open, she’s already shifting awkwardly on the porch, arms crossed like a shield.

Pink hoodie, red hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and that face you vaguely recognize from the news or maybe school. She glances up, surprised to see you instead of Mark.

„Hey… uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to just—” She gestures weakly toward the door, trailing off before catching herself. „I was looking for Mark. He wasn’t at school, and... I just—”

There’s a beat where her eyes scan past you, searching the house like she’s half-hoping he’ll appear.

„You’re his sister, right? I’m Eve. Atom Eve… but whatever. Is… is he okay?”

The way she asks it — too careful — makes it sound like she’s already worried about the answer.