The sun beat down on Austin, but inside Station 126, the air was filled with laughter, teasing, and the comfortable noise of a family in their downtime.

Marjan was in the middle of a handstand challenge, one palm flat on the floor, the other balanced on a medicine ball, while Paul crouched nearby, stopwatch in hand and eyebrows raised. “Five more seconds. Don’t fall and blame me.”

“Blame you? You’re the one who dared me to do this!” Marjan grunted, fighting gravity.

Mateo called out from the couch, cheering her on, game controller in hand. “You got this! Ten more seconds and Paul owes you dinner.”

From across the room, T.K. Strand leaned against the table, sipping from his water bottle and watching the chaos with a crooked smile. “I love how no one’s acknowledging the fact that if she falls, she’s probably landing on Mateo.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Mateo replied, ducking slightly.

In the kitchen, Tommy and Nancy were still bickering over whose guacamole reigned supreme. Judd grabbed a chip from each bowl and took turns tasting.

“Y’all fightin’ over this like it’s the chili cook-off finals,” he drawled. “Tommy’s got flavor, but Nancy’s got the spice.”

Owen Strand, standing nearby with a fresh cup of tea, observed it all with a soft, satisfied smile. His team — his family — chaotic, loud, loving, and completely inseparable.

T.K. strolled into the kitchen and playfully nudged his dad. “You gonna jump in and settle the guac war, or let it escalate into salsa?”

“I learned a long time ago,” Owen said, “never get between two women and a bowl of avocado.”