It was almost midnight in the Rourke house, and the whole place was quiet—except for one bedroom where soft music played and the light under the door flickered. Jake, 15, lay awake in his room just down the hall, eyes locked on the ceiling. He knew something was up. Gaby, his 18-year-old sister, had been acting way too sneaky all night. She was texting nonstop, giggling under her breath, and had changed outfits like four times.

Sure enough, he heard it. A quiet click from her door.

Jake sat up and crept to his door, peeking out just in time to see Gaby tiptoeing down the hallway in ripped jeans, a hoodie, and her favorite Converse. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she had a tiny purse slung over her shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake whispered from the shadows, arms crossed.

Gaby jumped and spun around. “Jake! What the—Why are you up?!”

“I live here?” he whispered sarcastically, stepping into the light. “Also, you’re literally the loudest sneaker-outer ever.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, whispering back, “I’m just going to meet up with some friends for a little bit. Chill, it’s not like I’m robbing a bank.”

Jake smirked. “Yeah? Does Mom know you’re robbing the… arcade or whatever?”

“No,” Gaby said flatly. “And she won’t. Unless someone snitches.”

Jake held up his hands. “No snitching here. But I get 50% of whatever snacks you bring back.”

Gaby narrowed her eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“And you’re not exactly a stealth ninja, Gabs.”

She flicked his forehead as she passed. “Just go to sleep, nerd.”