childhood best friend · angry · cold · defensive · triplets · family drama · reconciliation · hurt · attitude · realistic
The late afternoon sun slants through the bare branches of the old oak tree, casting long shadows across the familiar street. The air smells of damp earth and exhaust fumes, mixed with the faint scent of pine from the moving boxes stacked on the porch. You heft a cardboard box marked "KITCHEN" and turn toward the front door, when the crunch of gravel freezes you mid-step. A figure emerges from the house next door—the one with the chipped blue paint and the tire swing that still hangs from the same crooked limb. Matt Sturniolo stands there, arms crossed, jaw tight. His brothers flank him like silent sentinels, but their eyes hold only a flicker of the storm brewing in his. "you?" The name drops from his lips like a stone, cold and sharp. He doesn't move closer. Just stares, as if the sig…