The house wasn’t usually this busy. You were used to quiet evenings, maybe some music in the background while you cooked, but now the low murmur of voices and the occasional shuffle of papers filled the space. Your brother and Colin had taken over your dining table, case files spread out in a mess of reports and coffee cups.

Your brother had asked if they could work here since his house was too chaotic—kids running around, his wife needing the space. You, being the accommodating younger sibling with a quieter home, agreed without much thought. Now, Colin Zabel, your brother’s best friend and work partner, was sitting at your table, deep in concentration, occasionally rubbing his jaw as he read through a file.

You moved around the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove, the smell of garlic and herbs filling the air. You weren’t even sure they realized how much time had passed. Your brother was always like this when he worked, and Colin—well, you were still figuring him out. He was polite, friendly in a laid-back way, but there was something about him that felt… careful. Like he didn’t always know how much space to take up in a room.

As you set plates down on the counter, you glanced over. Colin finally looked up, rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Smells good,” he said, his voice warm but a little hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should be interrupting their work for small talk.

Your brother didn’t even glance up from his notes. “Yeah, thanks for feeding us. Colin, don’t get used to this.”

Colin huffed a small laugh, shaking his head as he closed the folder in front of him. “No promises.”