Ethan looked away, his jaw tightening.
Claire spoke up, her voice quieter but firm. "You didn’t even give us a chance, Ethan. The charges were dropped, and you just… disappeared. You ignored us. Do you know how many times I called?"
His gaze flickered to her for a brief second before settling on the table.
"I saw," he admitted, his voice low.
Claire scoffed, shaking her head. "Unbelievable."
His mother placed a hand on Claire’s arm before looking back at Ethan. "You could have come home sooner."
"I could have," he said simply.
Another silence stretched between them.
His father finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the air. "So why now?"
Ethan met his father’s gaze. "Because I’m here."
It wasn’t an answer. Not really. He didn’t have much to say.
His father stared at him for a long moment before nodding once, leaning back in his chair. "Hmph."
Julia, sensing the shift in mood, suddenly ran over to Ethan, tugging on his sleeve. "Big brother, do you wanna see my new drawings?"
Ethan glanced down at her bright, eager face. He felt something in his chest loosen.
"Yeah," he said, his voice softer. "I’d love to."
She grinned and dashed off, her tiny feet pattering against the floor as she ran to get her notebook.
His mother sighed, rubbing her temples before looking at Ethan with a small, tired smile. "Let’s not do this tonight."
Ethan nodded. "Alright."
Claire didn’t look fully satisfied, but she stayed quiet.
Julia came running back, hopping onto the couch beside Ethan and flipping open her notebook with excitement.
Ethan listened intently as she started explaining each of her drawings, her enthusiasm infectious.
Julia continued to chatter excitedly, flipping through the pages of her sketchbook and pointing at each of her drawings with pride.
Ethan watched her with a small, amused smile, nodding along as she explained each one.
"This one’s a castle!" she said, tapping a crayon drawing of a lopsided but still recognizable fortress. "And that’s a dragon guarding it!"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Looks tough."
She grinned. "It is! Only the bravest knights can beat it."
"Well, good thing I’m not a knight," Ethan said, smirking. "That thing looks scary."
Julia giggled, shaking her head. "You could totally beat it! You have a fast car, so you could just zoom away if it gets too close."
Ethan chuckled softly. "Smart thinking, Jules."
As Julia continued flipping through the pages, their mother moved quietly in the background, retrieving a plate of food from the kitchen.
The warm aroma filled the air, making Ethan realize just how hungry he actually was.
It had been hours since he last ate — probably even longer than that, considering the adrenaline of the race had kept him going.
His mother placed the plate in front of him with a small, gentle smile. "You should eat."
Ethan glanced at the food — simple, home-cooked, warm.
Something about it made his chest tighten, but he swallowed that feeling down and nodded. "Thanks, Mom."
He picked up the fork and started eating.
The first bite felt like nostalgia — comforting in a way he hadn’t expected.
He didn’t say anything as he continued eating, but he was grateful.
His mother sat across from him, watching quietly. She didn’t push him to talk, didn’t ask him questions, just let him eat in peace.
It was something he appreciated.
Claire, however, wasn’t as passive.
She had been watching him closely ever since he arrived, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line.
She was upset — Ethan could tell. But she wasn’t yelling, wasn’t accusing him of anything like the last time they met when he took Lila on their first date.
Instead, after a long pause, she slowly walked toward him.
Ethan noticed her approach but said nothing, focusing on finishing his food.
He expected her to say something, maybe throw another sarcastic remark about him disappearing.
Instead, she sat down beside him, hesitating for a moment before leaning against his shoulder.
Ethan tensed slightly, his grip tightening around the fork.
It wasn’t like Claire to do this — she had always been the sharp-tongued one, the one who challenged him, who fought him on everything.
But now, she was quiet.
He felt her shoulders shake slightly before she exhaled a trembling breath.
"…Thank you," she whispered, barely audible.
Ethan turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of her face.
Her eyes were red, tears welling up as she tried and failed to keep them from spilling.
For the first time since he arrived, she wasn’t mad. She wasn’t sarcastic. She wasn’t pushing him away.
She was just his little sister.
And she had missed him.
Ethan hesitated for a moment before sighing softly.
He set his fork down and shifted slightly, letting her lean into him more comfortably.
Claire took that as permission and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder.
Ethan didn’t speak, didn’t push her away. He just let her hold on, let her have this moment.
Their mother watched with a soft expression, a quiet understanding in her eyes.
She didn’t say anything — she didn’t need to.
Julia, oblivious to the emotions in the room, continued flipping through her drawings, happily humming to herself.
Ethan took a slow breath, closing his eyes for a second.
He had expected awkward conversations, expected tension, expected distance.
But this?
This was something he hadn’t prepared for.
The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t heavy.
It wasn’t the unbearable kind of silence that filled the house before — when they were too afraid to say the wrong thing, too afraid to acknowledge the elephant in the room.
This silence felt… peaceful.
After a while, Claire finally pulled back, sniffling and quickly wiping her eyes as if embarrassed by her own emotions.
Ethan smirked slightly. "Didn’t know you were such a crybaby."
Claire scoffed, elbowing him lightly. "Shut up."
But her voice lacked the usual bite — it was softer now, more vulnerable.
Their mother chuckled lightly, standing up from her seat. "I’ll go make some tea."
Ethan glanced at her. "You still drink that stuff?"
She smiled. "Of course. Some habits never change."
Ethan leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose.
He watched as she walked toward the kitchen, her movements slow but steady. She had aged, just a little.
The stress of the past few years had taken its toll.
His father, still mostly quiet, sat in his usual chair, observing everything with a neutral expression.
But Ethan could tell — there was something there, something unspoken.
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Julia suddenly plopped herself onto Ethan’s lap, grinning up at him. "Wanna see my best drawing?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Best one, huh? Alright, let’s see it."
She flipped to the very last page, where a colorful drawing of five stick figures stood in front of a house.
There was a big car next to them, scribbled in dark blue crayon.
Above it, in large, uneven letters, were the words:
"OUR FAMILY"
Ethan stared at it for a long moment.
Julia beamed. "See? That’s you right there!" She pointed at one of the stick figures — a taller one with scribbles for hair.
Ethan chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You’re getting good at this."
Julia giggled. "I know!"
Claire glanced at the drawing before smirking slightly. "You made his car too big."
Julia gasped. "No way! It’s the perfect size!"
Ethan shook his head, smiling despite himself.