The house was too quiet without their parents.Maya was on the living-room couch when she heard the front door open. Keys hit the side table. Footsteps followed.Liam walked in first, dark hair still damp, black T-shirt clinging to his shoulders. The same hollow look he’d worn for three weeks sat heavy on his face. Behind him came Nate and Jordan.“We’re back,” Nate said, already dropping into the armchair like he lived there. “Your brother still refuses to eat anything that isn’t sadness.”Jordan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, quieter as always. “He barely spoke the whole way here.”Liam sank onto the opposite end of the couch and didn’t answer.Maya glanced at him. “There’s leftover pasta in the fridge. I made extra.”“Thanks,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.Nate stretched his legs out. “See? Even Maya’s trying to keep you alive. You’re welcome, by the way, for dragging your depressing ass out of the gym.”Liam shot him a tired look. “I didn’t ask you to.”“Yeah, well
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