Los Angeles, California
The sun had already dipped below the hills, leaving streaks of orange and violet across the Los Angeles skyline. The city lights began to flicker awake, spreading like fireflies through the valley.
Daniel stepped out of the car and inhaled the cool evening air. The familiar scent of sea salt drifted faintly from the west. The neighborhood was quiet, the kind of calm only found in upper Los Angeles suburbs—where life slowed down and the noise of the city seemed faraway.
Ahead of him stood the two-story house, warm light spilling through the balcony windows. On the balcony stood Marcus, his older brother, smiling the same way he always did—half proud, half teasing.
"About time you showed up," Marcus called out, leaning against the railing.
Daniel laughed as he walked up the driveway. "You sound like Mom."
"Yeah, well, I learned from the best," Marcus replied, grinning as he made his way down the steps.
