Jessa

The house was finally still.

Mom had gone to bed hours ago, and the only sound was the faint thump of music coming from Jackson’s room — the sound of victory. The game updates had already spread through every group chat in school: Ridgeville 21, Clearwater 14.

I smiled to myself, sitting cross-legged on my bed, hair damp from the shower, a loose T-shirt hanging off my shoulder. Jackson had come home loud and happy, still in half his gear, sweaty and beaming. He’d tossed his ...