One damp, rainy Monday evening, Thomas, Emily, and Daniel were deep into a game of chess when Sarah walked into the room, a small smile on her face.

  The rain drummed steadily against the windowpane, the house, in contrast, was warmly lit by the glow of the overhead mps.

  Sarah paused and gazed at the quiet game with a smirk- “Hmm. Emily and Danny could have beaten Thomas in seconds. They taking it easy on him?”

  For a moment she paused, watching the game, the silence punctuated only by the pitter patter of rain and occasional clink of chess pieces.

  “You’ll never guess,” she finally announced, hands on her hips as she nodded at her family.

  Unfortunately for Sarah, her audience was more focused on the board than on her words.

  She waited a beat, cleared her throat before repeating - “As I was saying, you’ll never guess.”

  Yet there was no response - the pyers were seemingly dead to the world, completely engrossed in their game and oblivious to the dumbfounded and increasingly irritated matriarch.

  Sarah blinked, once - twice as she stared at the group in disbelief.

  After what felt like eternity, an almost guttaral growl escaped her as she cpped her hands once for effect and loudly procimed - “HEY! IDIOTS!”

  That got their attention. Thomas blinked up at her, fingers still hovering over a chess piece. Emily—evidently mid-thought—froze, eyes flicking up.

  Sarah smirked at their synchronized reactions before continuing.

  “As I was saying,” she huffed, drawing out the words slightly for emphasis, “John and Margaret have invited us over for dinner this Saturday.”

  Emily’s reaction was immediate.

  “Lily’s parents!?” she nearly screeched, nearly knocking over the board as she jumped up. Thomas let out a strangled noise, a cross between a hiss, a warble and a sound Sarah couldn’t quite describe - as he lunged to steady it.

  “This Saturday? Their house? Really?” Emily continued, firing off questions in rapid succession.

  Sarah nodded, amused at the sudden shift in energy. “Yes. It’s their way of saying thank you.”

  She hesitated, then added, “You did save their daughter, Emily. Well… you and Danny.”

  Emily’s enthusiasm faltered almost immediately.

  Sarah recognized that pause—the slight furrow of her brows, the way her fingers twitched like she was sorting through her thoughts. It was something she had grown to recognize as a moment when she and Daniel were having one of their internal discussions.

  “Well, I for one wouldn’t mind eating out and not paying for it,” Thomas said, carefully shifting the chessboard further away with a concerned gnce at Emily. “And honestly, I’m just gd John and Margaret seem to be getting along again.”

  Sarah’s expression softened. That part was true. Lily’s parents had been separated for years, but after their daughter nearly died in the tornado, things had changed. They had started talking more, spending more time with each other, healing old wounds.

  Perhaps now, after nearly losing Lily again to the car accident earlier that year- perhaps this dinner was a symbol of how their family had taken another step forward?

  A shiver ran down Sarah’s spine as memories surfaced—Emily, unconscious in a hospital bed, wires and monitors surrounding her. The beeping, the rushing doctors.

  It could have been Lily. It nearly was.

  “I guess, It’s not just about the dinner, is it?” Sarah said finally, gncing at Emily and Thomas. “They almost lost their daughter too.”

  The room became silent - heavy with meaning.

  Then there was a small shift—Emily’s posture straightened, her fingers lightly tapping against the table.

  Daniel had switched in.

  “Or,” Daniel said dryly, his voice and intonation subtly different from Emily’s - “they could just be trying to figure out how Em managed to spot that car coming. Or maybe they just want to get to know us better.”

  “Or”—his tone took on a teasing edge—“they want to use us as guinea pigs for some exceedingly cheesy Wisconsin food. Cos let’s be honest, cheese is your guys’ national spice.”

  The tension cracked. Thomas snorted, while Sarah let out a quiet ugh.

  Thomas ruffled Emily’s hair—no, both of their hair. “Be careful, you’re on thin ice, bub. You love Wisconsin cheese.”

  Emily switched back, exhaling a hesitant chuckle as she settled back into herself. “Yeah, yeah, let’s not bring up the first part. Except the cheese, maybe.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sarah said reassuringly, giving Emily’s arm a small squeeze as she sensed the unease lingering. “We’ll keep it simple. No complicated expnations.” She exchanged a gnce with Thomas, a silent agreement passing between them.

  Thomas nodded. “We’ll stick to the usual—small talk, catching up, and letting them gush about how great our daughter is.”

  Then, more carefully, “It’s not that we’re ashamed of you, Danny, it’s just…”

  Emily cut in before he could finish. “Dad, it’s okay. He gets it. Incognito mode.” She gave a lopsided smile. “Would be weird to talk about the whole ‘second soul’ thing over appetizers.”

  “Noted,” Thomas replied with a nod. “Though for the record, someone needs to keep you out of trouble. Might as well be your invisible brother.”

  Sarah smirked. “You know they may break out baby pictures?”

  Emily groaned dramatically. “Ugh, no. If they do, I’m hiding in Lily’s room. Or the dreamscape.”

  Sarah chuckled, unconsciously brushing a strand of hair from Emily’s face. “Fair enough. But remember—this is a good thing.”

  Her gaze softened as she met her daughter’s eyes. “You did something incredible, and they just want to say thank you. That’s not so bad, is it?”

  Emily gnced toward the window, watching the rain streak down the gss. For a moment, she was quiet. Then, softly— “Yeah. I guess it’s not.”

  —

  The day finally arrived.

  This wasn’t Emily’s first time visiting Lily’s house—far from it. However, the st time she had been here was the day of the accident, a reality that lingered in the back of each member the Parker’s family’s minds.

  Nevertheless, her excitement at seeing her friend, and the curiosity of watching their families interact in a new way, quickly overrode any lingering unease.

  The house smelled warm—cinnamon and baked apples perhaps - likely from whatever dessert the hosts had made. The scent enveloped Emily the second she stepped inside, a comforting to what felt like subtle unease in the air.

  However, before she could take another step, or overthink - Lily glomped her in a full-force hug.

  “Emily! You’re here!” she squealed, practically vibrating with excitement.

  Emily grinned, feeding off her friend’s energy. “Well, duh. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t eat all the dessert.”

  A giggle-fest ensued, the kind that only best friends could ignite in an instant.

  Daniel, ever the observer, let out a sarcastic comment from within. “You’re one to talk.”

  Emily smirked internally. “Hey, we operate in sync. If I’m a dessert hog, that means you are too. I mean I got my chocote addiction from you…”. Momentarily, she became far too preoccupied with the moment, to pay any heed to her invisible brother’s teasing.

  John and Margaret, Lily’s parents, greeted the Parkers warmly, all smiles - but the Parker family could sense there was something else beneath.

  When their eyes nded on Emily, something flickered—an emotion too deep, far too complex for words. Gratitude, tenderness, something heavier—not sadness, exactly, but a kind of quiet gentleness, almost reverence?

  Emily in turn felt herself turn a shade of pink - feeling quite like a bug under a microscope.

  “They’re grateful, Em,” Daniel murmured, sensing his sister’s concern. “You saved their daughter. Don’t be surprised if they start looking at you as family, or something close to it.”

  Meanwhile, pleasantries were exchanged as the families settled in.

  John and Thomas gravitated toward John’s whiskey collection, seemingly bonding over their preferred drinks, while Sarah and Margaret settled into the couch, engaged in easy going conversation that appeared to touch on everything and yet nothing at all.

  Daniel, ever the commentator, observed, “Adult py. Deep down, everyone wishes they could just have a pillow fight. I guarantee you.”

  Emily stifled a ugh and whispered, “Are you projecting, Danny?”

  For a moment, there was silence from within. Not the absent kind, but a pause—like he was turning something over in his mind.

  “Maybe I am - I’ve changed in ways I didn’t expect” he muttered quietly, thoughtfully.

  Emily frowned, she wanted to push further, perhaps her brother was on the verge of sharing another secret, but before she could, Lily grabbed her hand and pulled her upstairs.

  —

  As the kids retreated to Lily’s bedroom, the adults found themselves with a moment to talk about more delicate matters.

  The living room was cozy in the way it was lived-in.

  A rge, boxy TV sat against the wall, fnked by shelves lined with old VHS tapes and trinkets. A slightly cluttered desk sat in the corner, papers stacked unevenly, a coffee mug possibly buried under the mess. The furniture, while comfortable, bore signs of wear—a couch with slightly fttened cushions, a slightly scratched wooden end table that had clearly been repaired at least once.

  Small signs of mended things. Not broken, but patched, reinforced. Much like John and Margaret themselves.

  John walked over, pcing a gentle hand on Margaret’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before finally speaking.

  “Tom, Sarah…” he began, voice slightly unsteady. “Look, I don’t like beating around the bush but… uh… thanks again. Your kid saved ours. Again. And—I don’t know… we owe you.”

  Margaret pced her hand over his, trying to fill in the words he struggled to find.

  “I think what John is trying to say,” she said softly, “is that your daughter—your family—saved ours in more ways than one.”

  She paused, perhaps weighing her next words.

  “Emily saved Lily when that tornado hit a couple of years ago. And then she saved her again when that…” her voice hardened, eyes darkening, “…that absolute knucklehead almost plowed through our daughter.”

  Her body trembled as the anger surfaced—sharp, raw, powerful, but then, just as suddenly, it faded. Her expression softened, her eyes turning gssy.

  “I can’t imagine what it was like… seeing Emily in that hospital bed, almost losing her.” Margaret’s voice wavered - “It has to be one of the worst things a parent could ever experience.”

  John cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

  “We’re just so gd she recovered—I mean, look at her! She’s better than ever.”

  He exhaled, then added with a quiet chuckle, “I swear, it’s like she’s got a guardian angel watching over her.”

  Sarah and Thomas exchanged a gnce, a knowing smile passing between them.

  “Yeah,” Sarah said lightly, though her eyes held meaning, “almost like there’s a guardian angel looking out for her, and maybe your daughter too.”

  A quiet moment settled over the room - no one quite sure what more to add. Meanwhile the overhead mp cast a soft yellow glow, reflecting off the slightly scuffed floor.

  Then Thomas, his gaze on the floor, thumb absently rubbing over his knuckle, spoke.

  “It’s okay,” he said quietly.

  John and Margaret looked at him in surprise.

  Thomas lifted his head, meeting their eyes. “You feel guilty. Like you—or Lily—caused this.”

  He shook his head. “It wasn’t you.”

  His voice was steady, firm.

  “I need you to understand that. It wasn’t you. It was bad luck and an irresponsible driver. And honestly?”

  He let out a small, almost rueful chuckle - “If the roles had been reversed, Lily would’ve done the same for our childr—…our child.”

  Margaret let out a quiet sob. John inhaled sharply, as if finally releasing something he had been holding onto. Sarah instinctively reached for Margaret, pulling her into a hug.

  Guilt - Thomas felt the word settle in his mind.

  “Daniel had told Emily that Lily would feel guilty. I guess her parents are too. For no fault of their own” he thought to himself. “Man, Emily’s right—adults do make everything so damn complicated” he continued internally, thinking back to the comment Emily had made when reuniting Thomas with his parents.

  “Thank you,” John and Margaret murmured almost in unison. “Thank you so much, we… we were so scared that…”

  “You almost lost your child too,” Sarah finished gently, cupping Margaret’s hand in hers. “It’s okay. We don’t hold anything against you. We’re just gd this brought our families closer.” Then, with a pyful glint in her eyes, she added, “And it looks like yours too.”

  John chuckled as Margaret blushed, wiping her tears. “Yeah. After almost losing her twice, whatever differences we had feel so irrelevant.”

  “Absolutely pointless,” Margaret agreed with a nod. “Maybe this is the universe telling us to get over ourselves.”

  John let out a heavy sigh. “We couldn’t be there for Adam, our eldest.” His voice was quiet, regretful. “The fights, the separation, the divorce… he alienated himself from the family. It was his way of coping, I guess.”

  “But we won’t let the same happen with Lily,” Margaret added with conviction. “And maybe… one day, Adam and we—and Lily…”

  John shook his head and smiled. “Hey, I’m just gd she’s got a sister of sorts in Emily.”

  Thomas and Sarah exchanged a warm look before turning back to them.

  “So are we,” Sarah said softly. “So are we.”

  She smiled knowingly with a gnce at her husband, her voice heavy with meaning - “Sometimes, family comes from the most unexpected pces.”

  —

  Meanwhile, upstairs, Emily (and Daniel) and Lily were in their own world.

  The soft scratch of markers against paper filled the air, punctuated by the occasional rustle of candy wrappers as Lily sneakily popped another piece of stolen candy into her mouth. The faint, chemically scent of the markers mingled with the sweetness of whatever she had snuck from the kitchen.

  The friends y sprawled out on the well worn carpet. Between them, a pile of half-finished doodles and colorful scribbles grew as they talked about everything and nothing.

  Lily suddenly went quiet, pcing her marker down slowly as she stared at the poster in front of her, her expression unreadable.

  Emily frowned. “Lily? What’s going on?”

  Lily sighed, sat up, and started pacing, nervously pying with her fingers. She kept gncing at Emily, her mouth open as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Finally, she stopped by the window, her back to Emily. The room fell into silence—an uneasy peace no one knew how to break.

  Meanwhile a cool wind breezed through the slightly open window, the contrast between the warmth of the room and the crisp air outside sending a faint shiver up Emily’s spine.

  Lily took a deep breath.

  “Em, you saved my life. You told me it wasn’t my fault, and you were right. I kept thinking… if only I had moved faster, or looked both ways one more time, maybe none of it would have happened, you know?”

  Emily exhaled softly - “Yeah, but that car came out of nowhere. No amount of checks could have stopped it.”

  Lily turned and nodded curtly.

  “Yeah, you convinced me it wasn’t my fault. And most days, I believe it.” She hesitated, looking down at the floor as she fidgeted with her thumbs. “But…”

  She took a shaky breath - “I’ve changed, Em. Since that day. I’m not as scared anymore. I speak up. I tell bullies to back off.”

  She swallowed. “Things that used to seem terrifying just… don’t, not in the same way. I mean, the accident, the ambunce, seeing you in the hospital.” She smiled faintly. “I think I feel a little more like you, Em.”

  Inside, Daniel let out a soft, amused murmur. “Oh, sweet summer child. Trust me, you do not want to know how this gremlin feels.”

  Emily nearly snorted but bit it back.

  “Danny, for the love of— not now! This is a serious moment” she scolded internally.

  “What? I wasn’t wrong. You are most definitely a gremlin.”

  “Danny, shut it!”

  “A chaos gremlin!”

  “DANNY I SWEAR!!”

  “Okay okay…goblin then?”

  “I’m going to end you in the dreamscape I swear….”

  Emily could feel his silent ughter inside her—a warm pulse of amusement flickering through their shared connection.

  Shaking her head, she refocused on Lily.

  “I’ve noticed,” she said gently. “And I’m proud of you. You’ve grown.” Then, with a wink, she added, “But you’re not like me—you’re you. Just with a few…”

  “Software updates?” Daniel suggested far too calmly.

  Emily grinned. “Software updates!” She gave a quick thumbs-up. “Wait…”

  “Soft-who-what?” Lily giggled, the solemnity cracking for a moment. “Where do you even get these words, Em?”

  Emily chuckled, internally gring at Daniel - feeling his smugness through their link.

  “Well, you get the point.” She reached for Lily’s hand. “You’re you. The kind, sweet, intelligent girl who offered me that pencil when we first met. And if you’ve learned how to tell bullies to go fu—” She caught herself, blushing - “Far away, then that’s all the better.”

  Lily smiled, but it quickly faded. Her shoulders tensed, her eyes clouding over.

  “I still think about it, Em. A lot.” Her voice dropped. “The accident. Sometimes I wake up at night and—it’s like I’m back there. Always at night.”

  Emily opened her mouth, but Daniel stopped her with a quiet, firm nudge - “Em, don’t say anything. Listen. The moment will reveal itself. Let her speak.”

  She hesitated, then listened. Daniel’s usual teasing was gone—his tone was steady, certain. When he was like this, in guardian mode, she knew to trust him.

  As he had predicted, Lily continued.

  “It’s so… scary, Em,” she whispered. “I see you in the hospital. All those tubes, those wires. I remember hearing that you almost died. And I feel angry, and sad, and I want to scream, and I want to cry, and I just… I don’t know what to do.”

  She clenched her fists. Then, with an uncharacteristic burst of frustration, she grabbed a stuffed animal from the bed and threw it across the room, breathing heavily.

  Emily froze. Lily wasn’t the kind of person to throw things, to rage.

  This wasn’t the gentle, soft-spoken Lily she knew.

  This was someone who had grown—but was still hurting.

  Daniel sighed softly inside her.

  “I’m guessing Lily’s parents don’t believe in therapy.”

  A pause.

  “Or therapy just hasn’t evolved much in this universe?”

  Emily swallowed. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Then Daniel spoke again, his voice low. “Tap out, Shrimp. Let me handle this.”

  Emily hesitated, but then she felt it—his understanding, his quiet resolve. He was most certainly in his big brother mode. She nodded internally, switching seamlessly.

  Daniel sat down on Lily’s bed, feeling the mattress beneath him—firm yet soft, much like himself, Emily realized. Steady when needed, but with a gentleness beneath the surface.

  He wrapped an arm around Lily’s shoulders in a firm, comforting side hug—a bro hug, as he called it.

  “Lily, I’m going to say it again—this wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly. “But it’s one thing to say it. Another to feel it. And yet another to accept it. You’re working on accepting it, deep down.”

  Daniel squeezed her shoulders. "It takes time to make peace with something like this. And we - I mean I’ll be right there, reminding you that you’re not alone in this, no matter how many times we have to cross that bridge again, and again, and again. Cos we are friends okay?”

  Lily sniffled. A tear slipped down her cheek.

  Daniel continued - “But, you gotta do your part too - find a way to express it. Emil- I mean I had to learn to do that too. Draw, paint, write, dance—whatever helps you get it out. Throw stuffed animals, throw them out of a window if you must, scream into a pillot, just don't let it sit inside you. That's when things get stuck."

  With a gentle punch he added - “You got this Lilypad, you got a whole bunch of folks there to back you up.”

  Lily blinked, startled.

  “Lilypad?” she repeated softly.

  Daniel chuckled. “Huh, guess you just got a new nickname. Not bad though, huh? Unless you’d rather be Supreme Goblin or Shrimp-lite or something?”

  Lily stared at him for a second, then giggled—before bursting into ughter.

  Emily could feel Daniel grinning inside their shared mind - and then, suddenly—hot potato.

  Without warning, Daniel shoved control back to Emily mid-ugh. She snorted so hard a little liquid came out of her nose. “Agh—Danny!” she yelped internally, wiping furiously.

  Lily gasped, then colpsed in ughter, setting off another chain reaction.

  As the giggles faded, Lily hugged Emily tightly. “Thanks, Em. For everything. Thanks for being there every step of the way.”

  Emily patted her friend’s back. “Anytime, Lilypad. Anytime.”

  She smiled and added warmly “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep going. And in addition to everyone else - you’ve got me”

  Softly, under her breath—just for Daniel to hear—she whispered, “You’ve got both of us.”

  —

  Dinner was finally served—a warm affair, both in temperature and atmosphere.

  The scent of baked chicken, double-baked potatoes, green beans, asparagus, warm bread, buttery corn, apple-cinnamon cake, cider, and of course, chocote truffles made just for Emily, filled the air.

  A hearty and homey meal, all in all.

  John and Thomas sat near the end of the table, engaged in a rather vigorous debate over whiskey and beer brands, while Sarah and Margaret were caught in a flurry of discussions over old family and work stories. Occasionally, Emily and Lily exchanged quiet gnces and smiles—the weight of their earlier conversation still lingering but somehow feeling lighter now - perhaps woven into the fabric of their friendship?

  It was a happy affair—the clink of silverware against ptes, the ughter of children and adults alike, the occasional motherly reminders to chew properly and not talk with full mouths.

  The kind of warmth that somehow wrapped around the room in a bnket of security and peace.

  Inside, Daniel radiated a rare, gentle sense of peace—though he wasn’t entirely silent.

  “Your mashed potato-to-gravy ratio is unacceptable,” he commented, the mock disapproval thick in his voice. “You’re a legit grease monkey.”

  Emily nearly choked on her bite.

  He wasn’t done.

  “And the cheese. So much cheese. You guys are a Wisconsin stereotype in action.”

  Emily rolled her eyes but hid a smirk behind her fork.

  “My darling, protective, but oh-so-silly brother,” she shot back pyfully. “I know you can taste what I’m eating. I know you want to dig in—you’re literally chewing in time with me. This hand wouldn’t move this smoothly if you weren’t in sync with me. We’d instantly fall out of rhythm, and oh, wouldn’t that be a disaster.”

  There was a pause—a feeling, almost like Daniel was opening and closing his mouth, searching for a rebuttal and coming up empty. Then, finally, Emily felt a resigned pulse of amusement.

  Emily grinned internally. “Sometimes, bro? Take the L.” She chuckled, popping a chocote truffle into her mouth as an emuted mic drop.

  For once, Daniel had no comeback.

  —

  As dinner wrapped up and ptes were cleared, Margaret suddenly gasped, her eyes lighting up.

  “Oh! Just a moment—don’t move!” she said, momentarily disappearing from the room.

  Lily’s eyes narrowed in immediate suspicion. “No. No no no, what is she—”

  Before she could finish, Margaret reappeared, a thick, worn photo album tucked under her arm, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

  Lily’s face instantly turned pink as a pitiful whine escaped. “Mom, oh no, come on… not that…”

  “Oh, nonsense,” Margaret positively purred, flipping the book open. “Let everyone see how cute you were.”

  There, in photographic proof, was toddler Lily—bright-eyed, chubby-cheeked, and wearing the frilliest, pinkest monstrosity of a dress possible.

  Lily’s squeal rose an octave as she turned a deep, beet shade of red. “NO! MOM! WHY!?”

  Margaret beamed - “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Look how precious you were!”

  Then, with a sly smirk, she added, “Also, this is revenge for all those nights you kept us awake.”

  Before Lily could say anything, Emily leaned over, eyes wide with excitement and delight.

  “Oh wow. Lily, I had no idea you were such a—” she paused, tilting her head, as if carefully considering her words. “…fashion disas— I mean icon. Yes. Definitely an icon.”

  Lily gred at her, a look filled with feigned displeasure, though a small smile pyed at the corners of her lips.

  “Oh, just wait until I visit your house and ask your parents for your baby pictures” - she whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Inside, Daniel was having the time of his life.

  “Oh, this is gold. Pure gold” - his voice filled with absolute delight. “I mean, HA! Look at those frills! She looks like the Michelin Man got hammered and crashed into into a ribbon factory!”

  Sarah meanwhile smiled, giving Lily an almost sympathetic look. “Oh, don’t worry, Lily— we’re happy to return the favor when your family visits. Emily deserves a little payback too.”

  Emily froze mid-bite.

  Lily, conversely, perked up immediately.

  “Oh, I like that idea,” Lily said, smiling and looking Emily dead in the eye with a sly twinkle.

  Emily slowly lowered her fork. “…Mother. My dear mother whom I adore. You wouldn’t.”

  Sarah simply looked away, taking a sip of her drink as her own eyes glinted with mischief.

  Inside, Daniel was wheezing with ughter. Unapologetically.

  Later, as the evening finally wound down, the table cleaned, children and adults dispersed, the energy settled into something softer - the evening approaching a natural conclusion.

  Emily paused, sat back and assessed the room - her friend happy and reinvigorated, her proud, appreciative, rexed parents, and even John and Margaret — standing close, exchanging small smiles that spoke of something being mended and healed.

  A faint breeze stirred the curtains, carrying with it the lingering scent of the remnant of the cake. Emily inhaled, and then exhaled, letting the moment settle over her. She was—too simple a word, perhaps, but no less true—happy.

  Inside, Daniel had gone quiet—not the heavy kind, but the peaceful, content kind.

  Emily smiled slightly and quietly, in their shared mind - murmured “Thanks, Danny - for helping Lily, for…everything”

  A soft pulse of warmth answered her. Nothing more needed to be said.