Nick pushed the door open with his shoulder, bringing in a bit of evening air. His sneakers tapped on the wooden floor as his school bag slid halfway down his arm. He jogged upstairs, running his hand along the warm railing.

His room wasn’t perfect, but it was his. Posters covered the walls—Imagine Dragons, One Diraction, Green Day, and even an old Queen one. A black keyboard stood in the corner, always waiting for him. His desk by the window was buried under notebooks, game boxes, and a couple of cans. The bed, with its gray blanket and blue pillows, looked like the only neat place in sight.

Nick dropped his bag there with a thud and stretched until his joints cracked. He brushed past the keyboard and hit a random note, grinning at the sound. He smiled to himself and glanced in the mirror. A tall, red-haired boy looked back at him. Not a sports guy, but not skinny either. His face was full of freckles, and his green eyes were bright and alive.

The smell of bread and sauce pulled him downstairs. His mom, Olivia, in an oversized sweater, pulled a tray of bread from the oven. His dad, James, was wrestling with the leaky tap. Millie, their cocker spaniel, skidded into Nick’s legs, ears flying.

“Finally,” his mom said, handing him a fork. She looked tired, but her smile was real.

“How was your day, champ?” his dad asked, finally stopping the drip with a grunt.

“Pretty good. Got a hundred on my math test,” Nick said, trying to hide his grin.

His mom’s eyes lit up. “That’s my boy.”

“Well done,” his dad added. “Keep that up and maybe I’ll hire you to fix bugs at work.”

Nick laughed as Millie shoved her nose into his knee.

“Nick, don’t feed her,” his mom warned.

“I’m not! She’s guilt-tripping me,” he said, sneaking her a piece of bacon anyway. Millie wagged her tail like crazy.

Mom sighed, brushing hair from her face. “Six hours in surgery today. But the boy’s going to walk again.”

“That’s amazing, Mom,” Nick said quietly.

James lifted his glass of water. “To heroic days.”

They clinked glasses—just water, just pasta, just another Tuesday. But to Nick, it meant everything. This was home.

The radio played an old rock song, filling the quiet between their voices.