The sun beat down hard, the kind of heat that made the tar on the sidewalk bubble and stuck your clothes to your back. Everything shimmered in that blinding, ugly light—overexposed like a washed-out photo that someone kept trying to smile through.

Douglas had one arm slung around Renee’s shoulders, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking far too smug about this whole “new life” phase. Promotion. A house. A pool. A fresh goddamn start. He was still slick with sweat from mowing their tiny front lawn that morning, grinning like he owned the whole street. Maybe in his head, he did.

"Andrew, keep an eye on your sibling!" Renee barked in that half-tired voice of hers, already flopped into a recliner with a battered paperback and oversized sunglasses. Her free hand was already reaching for a cold soda.

Andy grimaced, muttering something under his breath that he was glad she didn’t catch. Something that would've earned him a slap if it did. He trudged closer to the pool, towel over one shoulder, swim shorts too big and hanging awkwardly from his narrow frame.

He didn’t care about the other kids. They were loud, obnoxious, sunburned. All of them already tanned from lives that probably didn’t suck. Andy hung back, keeping one eye on {{user}}, who stood quietly near the pool’s edge, scanning the water with a steady gaze. It wasn’t the kind of place either of them had spent much time before, but the quiet made it easier to watch and stay alert.

A splash nearby made him flinch slightly. Some brat launched himself off the diving board, nearly missing a toddler paddling with floaties. The lifeguard still didn’t look up from his phone.

Andy let out a low breath through his nose.