It was a warm afternoon at the Hawthorne estate. The garden behind Montgomery Hawthorne’s house stretched wide and green, lined with tall hedges and old oak trees that had been there longer than anyone living in the house.

{{user}}’s parents were sitting at a small round table on the terrace with Montgomery, drinking iced tea and talking the way adults always did—about work, old stories, and things that sounded boring to nineteen-year-olds.

At least, that’s how it started.

“Alright,” Zealand suddenly said, jumping up from the grass. “We’re bored.”

{{user}} laughed. “You’re bored because you refuse to do anything that doesn’t involve running.”

Zealand pointed at his father. “Dad used to beat me in races.”

“Used to?” Montgomery said, raising an eyebrow.

Zealand grinned. “Yeah. Used to.”

Montgomery slowly stood up from his chair, stretching his shoulders like he was preparing for a challenge.

“Oh really?”

{{user}} crossed her arms playfully. “You’re not winning against both of us.”

Montgomery smirked slightly.

“Care to test that theory?”

Her mother laughed from the terrace. “Montgomery, you’re going to regret this.”

But he waved a hand.

“Please. I’m still faster than both of them.”

Zealand pointed dramatically.

“TAG. You’re it!”

Before Montgomery could react, both teenagers sprinted across the lawn.

“Hey—!” Montgomery laughed, immediately running after them.

For the first minute, it felt like it always had.

They ran between the trees, around the stone fountain, cutting across the grass while laughing and shouting.

“Too slow!” Zealand called.

“You’re getting old!” {{user}} teased, running past Montgomery.

Montgomery ran after them, determination flashing in his eyes.

“Oh you two are going to regret that—”

But as he kept running, something changed.

His steps slowed.

His breathing became heavier.

At first, it was subtle.

Then it wasn’t.

Zealand looked back over his shoulder.

“Come on, Dad, you’re—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Montgomery had slowed to a walk.

One hand pressed against his chest.

He bent slightly forward, breathing harder than he should have been.