Axton
The house always felt better at night. Dimmer. Quieter. Easier to breathe in.
I stayed down by the pool after she left. Didn’t move for a while. Just sat on the edge, feet on the tile, letting the silence stretch.
The water still rippled where she’d been a minute ago.
I hated how aware I’d been of her.
Not in the way guys notice someone in a swimsuit. That would’ve been easier. Cleaner.
No.. this was something else.
She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t try to fill the silence. She didn’t even react when I said the words. You’re not my sister.
She just nodded like she already knew that.
And maybe that’s what bothered me the most. She didn’t try to be nice. Didn’t fake it.
Most people did. They smiled too wide or asked too many things or tried too hard to impress someone. She didn’t. She just swam like she belonged there. Like this wasn’t new. Like I was the one interrupting her space.
I rubbed a hand down my face, exhaled slowly. My shirt clung slightly from the humidity. I should’ve gone upstairs. Should’ve tried to sleep.
But instead, I pulled my phone out.
One new message. Blain.
Blain: Party at Theo’s on Friday. Bring that miserable attitude. Girls love a challenge.
I didn’t answer. Just locked the screen again.
Didn’t feel like people.
Didn’t feel like pretending to laugh at dumb jokes or smiling for photos I’d never want to see again.
Blain would probably show up here tomorrow anyway. He always did. And he’d ask about her, too.
The girl.
I hadn’t even thought of her as Nora yet. She didn’t feel like family. And that’s exactly what made this worse. Because when she was in the water, she didn’t look fragile. She looked focused. Quietly furious. And for some reason, I understood that.
She wasn’t trying to be anyone. Not a daughter. Not a sister. Not welcome.
She just exist.
And that kind of stillness, it wasn’t something you could fake.
I stood up eventually, grabbed the towel I hadn’t used, and walked upstairs without turning around.
Didn’t look back at the pool. Didn’t check my phone again. Didn’t want to admit that I’d remember that look in her eyes longer than I should.

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