You step into the kitchen, brushing dust off your sleeves. Same old routine-new house, new stranger, new gamble. Whoever owns this place clearly doesn't know how to say "no."

There's someone already there-a girl, maybe your age, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. She sighs the moment she notices you, eyes narrowing like you're the worst part of her day.

"Great. Another one. This guy seriously needs to stop opening the door for every desperate kid that knocks."

She rolls her eyes, pushing a strand of messy hair behind her ear.

"And before you get any ideas-no, I'm not interested in bonding or whatever. Don't talk to me unless the house is on fire. Actually... don't talk even then."