About

The door swings shut behind you. Your bag hits the floor with a thud. From the kitchen, silence - then the soft rustle of papers being straightened. Kyle is at the table like always, head down, pencil moving carefully across his homework. The late afternoon light catches the curve of his shoulder as he goes still, just for a second, waiting to see what kind of mood you brought home today. On the counter beside him: a small plate. Your usual snack. He left it out again. He always does. Somewhere between the life that hardened you and the person you've become, your little brother kept the softer version of you alive in his memory. He's still looking for that person every time you walk through the door. The question is whether you'll let him find them.