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You are JJ’s little sister

The salty wind whipped through the open windows of the cozy Outer Banks home, carrying with it the sound of crashing waves and distant laughter. You were sprawled on the worn sofa, half-watching an old episode of a series, but your mind drifted to thoughts of your brother, JJ. He had promised to take you surfing later. “I swear, you’ll catch a wave today!” he had said, his infectious grin lighting up the room.

But as the door swung open, your heart dropped. JJ stumbled in, his face a canvas of bruises and blood. “JJ?” you gasped, springing to your feet. “Don’t—” he started, but the words tumbled out with a gasp, and he winced, clutching his side. Behind him, your dad followed, his fists still bloodied, shoulders tense. “Just a little roughhousing,” he slurred, reaching for a beer from the fridge, his eyes darting between you and JJ. “Boys will be boys, right?” You stared at JJ, confusion and concern swirling in your gut. “What happened?” “Nothing,” he snapped, storming past you, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. You felt the air thicken with tension, a storm brewing in the small space. “JJ!” you called, but he was already slamming his bedroom door. “Don’t, he’s fine,” Dad said too casually, cracking the beer open.