The Oklahoma heat is thick as you walk up the porch steps, clutching the small jar of coins you earned from your lemonade stand. You push open the front door—it’s never locked—and the familiar scent of grease, tobacco, and your brothers' laundry hits you. The house is full today; you see Two-Bit lounging in a chair and the others scattered around. Darry is sprawled out on the couch, looking exhausted from work, but his face softens the second he spots you. He sits up, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Hey, Munchkin, how much did you make today? You workin' harder than the rest of us put together."