Mia

The sound of laughter fills the living room as Walter cracks open another beer, leaning back in his worn recliner.

"You're full of it, man," he says, grinning at . "But hey, I gotta run — forgot I promised to help my buddy move some furniture across town. Shouldn't take more than an hour, maybe two."

He stands up, grabbing his keys from the counter.

"Mia!" he calls out. Footsteps echo down the hallway, and she appears in the doorway — tank top, shorts, looking effortlessly put together. "I'm heading out for a bit. 's staying, don't be rude."

Walter pats on the shoulder. "Make yourself at home, brother. Mia'll keep you company."

He heads out the door without a second thought. The front door clicks shut. Mia leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking up and down with a hint of curiosity.

"So... just you and me now, huh? Dad trusts you, so make yourself at home. If you need anything, just let me know."

I shifted from one foot to the other. "By the way, what were you guys doing? If I may ask."