As I step into her home, a warmth washes over me—one I haven’t felt since I was a boy. Soft lights glow throughout the house, and in the corner, an older woman is dozing peacefully in a recliner.

I bend down to untie my shoes, holding them up as she points to where she put hers. “You can just put them over there,” she says, glancing down at the kids.

She introduces them with a tired smile. “The boy is Ralph, and the girl is Sarah,” she says, pointing at each of them.

Before I can react, both kids make a sudden move toward me, shoes still in my hand. “Hold on, hold on!” I exclaim, quickly setting them on the shoe rack.

I kneel down, holding my arms out. “I’m Victor.”

The moment I lower myself, they seize the chance, launching themselves at me with unrestrained enthusiasm. I let out a laugh, bracing myself as they cling to me, their small energy filling the entryway.

“Okay, right now I see three wet people—and two of them are past their bedtime,” she says, her voice scolding as she looks down at all of us.

The three of us look up at her in unison.

“Cough…” she mutters, glancing away for a moment before walking over and plucking Ralph off me. As Sarah stretches her little arms toward Claire, I stand up with her in my arms.

“Where to, boss?” I ask, locking eyes with her as she giggles.

She points deeper into the house, and I smile softly. “On my way, Captain,” I whisper, careful not to wake the older woman dozing in the recliner.

Claire glances at me, her own smile warm, following my gaze. “Don’t worry about her—that’s not loud enough to wake her up,” she says.

We begin to ascend the stairs, carrying both kids to their shared room on the floor above, the quiet padding of our steps echoing softly in the cozy house.

As we reach the room, I gently set Sarah down. Claire instructs the kids to change and get ready for bed. She leans casually against the doorframe, and once again, our eyes meet—what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

“How’re you feeling?” I ask.

She covers her mouth, stifling a laugh. “You’re the one with the slashes on your back,” she says, shaking her head.

“True,” I reply, leaning on the doorframe and peering into the room. “You have a cozy home here,” I admit, genuinely impressed.

“Yeah,” she says, glancing toward the kids. “Our father left it to us when he passed… well, technically to my brother, but after his wife died, he couldn’t bear seeing the children, so he mainly works now and sends money for them.”

“Oh, that sounds tough,” I say, scratching the back of my head.

“Yeah,” she replies, her gaze drifting past me. “It is for all of us, but the kids were young when it happened. Me and Mom try our best for them.”

“I understand,” I say with a small laugh, letting the memory surface. “I lost my parents when I was young too, and my brother raised me with his girlfriend.”

As our eyes meet, we both suddenly sneeze.

“Acho—”
“Achoo!”

Her sneeze is louder than mine, and we can’t help but laugh at the coincidence, the sound echoing softly through the room.

“We should change too, huh?” she says between laughs.

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” I reply.

She peeks her head into the room. “You guys okay in here? Me and Victor need to change.”

“Yes, Claire… yawn… we’re good,” Sarah replies, stretching a little.

“Vicky,” Ralph calls out.

I peek my head in alongside her. “Yo,” I say, giving a small wave.

Ralph gestures for me to come closer. I glance at Claire, and she nods. “Go ahead, he’s calling you,” she says, motioning me in.

“Ok, ok, ok,” I mumble, bobbling my head as I step inside.

“How you doing, man?” I ask the kid, crouching down to his level.

Ralph nods his head, eyes fixed on me. “What do you do, mister?”

I smile down at him. “I’m a cop.”

From the other bed, Sarah pipes up, curiosity bright in her voice. “So… you catch bad guys?”

I turn toward her, kneeling between the two beds. “Something like that,” I say, letting a hint of bitterness slip through, though I try to hide it.

Their faces light up, and in unison, they exclaim, “That’s so cool!”

As I tell them a few stories, something drops onto my head.

“Here, use this,” she says, holding out a towel of her own. I turn around and take it, standing up to wipe myself down and get somewhat dry.

“You’re still wet here,” she points out, reaching over to help with my towel.

“Thanks…” I muffle, letting the towel cover part of my face.

“No problem,” she replies, smiling, while the kids giggle beside us.

“You guys should go to sleep,” she adds, pointing toward the door.

“I have some clothes from my brother, but I don’t know if they’ll fit,” she continues, glancing at me.

I nod and wave to the kids. “Good night, Ralph. Good night, Sarah,” I say, smiling as I step out the door.

I kneel between the beds, smiling down at them. “I’m a cop,” I say simply, letting the weight of the words settle naturally without making it scary.