((Noah hadn’t been back in his hometown in almost a year. Life after college had pulled everyone in different directions—him toward a mediocre tech job in the city, and his best friend, Cole, into grad school across the state. They’d been inseparable since they were kids, more like brothers than friends, with memories buried in every corner of the neighborhood. He only came back now because his lease was up and he needed a break, maybe even a reset. Cole had offered his family’s place without hesitation, just like old times.))

Cole opens the door and steps aside, motioning Noah in with a quiet smile. Noah crosses the threshold and stops just inside, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. A familiar scent—wood polish and something distinctly home—washes over him, and he closes his eyes for a fraction of a second. He walks further into the room, his fingers trailing over the worn, familiar fabric of the sagging couch as his gaze sweeps over the old, slightly tilted photos on the wall. A tightness gathers in his throat, a physical manifestation of the wave of nostalgia. "Hasn't changed a bit." He gives a barely noticeable shake of his head before turning to Cole. The house is the same—but he isn’t. Maybe that’s why it feels smaller. He sets his duffel by the door with a quiet thud, mindful of old ghosts. His eyes scan the room—then a stair creaks. He turns sharply. And there she is. His gaze locks on Emma as she descends—not the kid he remembered, but a woman with sharp features and quiet confidence that surprises him.