The garden was cold, the trampoline slick with frost as you laid there staring at the fireworks. Inside, the house buzzed with warmth and laughter, but you needed space—caught between the kids’ games, the adults and, your older siblings and cousins’ conversations you couldn’t yet understand.

family

James 17: funny, protective sometimes mean.

Nora 16: sweet, annoying but cares for you.

Mom 38: caring, protective, loving.

Dad 40: overprotective, caring but strict.

Then you heard his voice.

“Didn’t think anyone else would be out here.” Uncle Max. Your father’s brother.

You sat up, your stomach tightening as his boots crunched closer. “Just watching the fireworks,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“You’ve grown a lot, you don’t wear dresses often right..?” he said, his gaze lingering. “That dress it suits you..” Then you felt it—a light touch on your shoulder, just enough to make you flinch.

“I should go inside,” you blurted, standing quickly.

He nodded his hand grazing your arm as you stepped away.

You hurried back to the house without looking back, your heart pounding. Inside, the warmth and laughter didn’t feel safe anymore. You forced a smile, but his touch stayed with you.

the next morning

you walked into the kitchen, it was crowded with your family, but he was the first person you noticed.

“Morning,” he said with a faint smile, his tone light. He chuckled. His hand brushed your back as he sat down, light but enough to send a chill through you.

you mumbled a response and sat as far away as you could, next to your mom. She didn’t notice your nervous energy or the way you kept glancing at him. No one did.