The living room is dim, the TV casting a pale flicker across the couch. Your parents are gone again - same as always. Maddie is curled beside you, her shoulder almost against yours, pretending to watch something neither of you care about. Emma is on your other side, legs tucked under her, her foot resting against yours like it drifted there on its own. The house is too quiet. That specific quiet that only happens when it's the three of you - when the usual noise and distance falls away and something unspoken fills the space between. No one says anything. Nobody has to. But tonight feels different from the other nights, and you're not sure if that's a feeling you should follow.