The soft hum of the dishwasher filled the kitchen as Mrs. Blake wiped down the counters, the scent of fresh coffee still lingering in the air from breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the living room where I sat curled up on the couch with a book in my lap. I had turned the same page three times already, unable to focus. The warmth of the house, the distant sound of footsteps from upstairs, and the slow, lazy feel of a Sunday morning made it hard to do much of anything.

Then, like a whirlwind, Lily burst into the room, her excitement impossible to ignore. "Emily!" she called, bouncing toward me. "Let's do something fun! It's Sunday, and we don't have to worry about school until tomorrow!"

I barely had time to process her enthusiasm before Sam trudged in behind her, looking far less energetic. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Like what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lily was already brimming with ideas. "We could build a fort! Or play a board game! Or—" she gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide, "we could do an obstacle course in the living room!"

I laughed at the sheer number of options she threw out in the span of a few seconds. "Do you ever run out of energy?"

"Nope," Lily said proudly, hands on her hips. "It's a gift."

Sam rolled his eyes. "More like a curse."

Mrs. Blake appeared in the doorway, drying her hands on a towel, her expression amused. "Those all sound like great ideas," she said. "Why don't you all decide while I finish up in here?"

Lily immediately turned to me, eyes shining. "Okay, what do you want to do, Emily?"

I hesitated, glancing at Sam, who already looked like he regretted walking into the room. "The fort idea sounds kind of fun," I admitted.

Lily clapped her hands. "Yes! Let's make it huge—like, so big that we could live in it."

"Or," Sam said dryly, "so big that it collapses on top of us and we all suffocate."

"Oh, please, Sam," Lily scoffed. "We'll reinforce it! It'll be structurally sound."

Mrs. Blake chuckled from the kitchen. "Just make sure it doesn't block the TV, okay?"

"No promises," Lily called back.

I stretched and stood from the couch. "Alright, let's do this."

Lily grabbed Sam's sleeve and dragged him further into the room, already firing off building strategies. "We need every blanket and pillow we can find. And the chairs! We'll need those for support."

Sam sighed, rubbing his face. "This is gonna be so much work."

I nudged him with my elbow. "Come on, Sam. Where's your sense of adventure?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "Fine. But if this thing collapses, I'm not helping rebuild."

Lily cheered. "Then we better make it perfect the first time!"

And with that, our Sunday morning was officially set.

The fort stood triumphantly in the middle of the living room, a sprawling masterpiece of blankets, pillows, and strategically placed furniture. Lily had insisted on making it as "architecturally sound" as possible, going so far as to prop up sections with broom handles and books to create extra stability. Sam had been skeptical, but even he had to admit it looked impressive once we finished.

"Alright," Lily declared, wiping imaginary sweat from her forehead. "This is our official headquarters now."

"Headquarters for what?" Sam asked, arching an eyebrow.

"For fun, obviously," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

We crawled inside, bringing with us a deck of cards and a few board games that Mrs. Blake had pulled from the cabinet. The space inside was cozy, lit by a few flashlights we had propped up against the pillows, creating a soft glow that made everything feel more magical.

The first game we played was Uno, and it quickly turned dangerous. Sam, of course, gloated after winning the first round, stretching dramatically and saying, "Ahh, victory tastes so sweet."

Lily scowled, shuffling the cards aggressively. "Rematch. Right now."

Sam smirked. "You sure you want to lose twice in a row?"

"Oh, it's on," Lily growled, narrowing her eyes like a predator locking onto its prey.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Should I be worried about this getting violent?"

"Only if Sam keeps that smug look on his face," Lily muttered as she dealt the cards with intense precision.

The games continued, getting increasingly competitive. Lily finally won a round and nearly flipped the blanket roof off in excitement. I ended up stuck in the middle, caught between their playful rivalry, and just happy to be part of the moment.

Outside the fort, Mrs. Blake moved around the kitchen, occasionally poking her head in to settle disputes but mostly letting the fun unfold. Her amused smile told me she was happy to see us enjoying ourselves.

Then, just when we thought the day couldn't get any better, Mrs. Blake reappeared with a tray of cookies and steaming mugs of hot cocoa.

"A little reward for all your hard work," she said, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

We scrambled out of the fort like we hadn't eaten in days. The cookies were still warm, the chocolate melting in our mouths, and the cocoa was rich and creamy, topped with whipped cream and tiny marshmallows.

Lily dunked her cookie into her cocoa and sighed dramatically. "This is peak living."

"Agreed," Sam said, his mouth already half-full.

I took a sip of my cocoa, letting the warmth spread through me. "I don't think today could get any better."

But then, the front door opened.

The sound of keys jingling and boots thudding against the floor signaled the arrival of someone new. A second later, Mr. Blake stepped inside, his expression weary but relieved. He set down his travel bag with a sigh, running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

"Welcome home, Matthew," Mrs. Blake said, moving toward him with a warm smile.

He barely had time to take off his coat before she kissed him on the cheek.

"Ew!" Lily groaned, covering her eyes.

Sam, ever unbothered, simply said, "Hey, Dad."

I stood up, still holding my mug. "Hello, Mr. Blake."

He turned to me with a kind smile, setting his bag down. "Hello, Emily. It's good to be home."

His voice was deep, steady—fitting for someone who always seemed to carry a quiet presence, even when he wasn't there.

"Did you just get back from your business trip?" I asked.

He nodded, stretching his arms. "Yeah, a long one this time. I've been looking forward to coming home."

"Well, you picked a good day," Lily said, still lounging under the fort like a queen. "We built the best blanket fort in the history of blanket forts."

"Oh really?" Mr. Blake raised an eyebrow. "Is that what all this is?"

"Yup," Sam confirmed. "And I won most of the games."

Mrs. Blake smirked. "You mean some of the games."

Sam shrugged. "It's all about perspective."

Mr. Blake chuckled, finally stepping fully into the living room. He loosened his tie, glancing around at the chaos of pillows, blankets, and board games scattered everywhere.

"Well," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "I guess that means I'm home."

And for the first time in a long while, I realized I wasn't just visiting someone else's home—I was part of it.

As the afternoon stretched on, the living room settled into a warm, easy stillness. The energy from our games had faded into a quiet lull, the kind that only came after hours of laughter and play. Lily lay sprawled across the floor, her arms folded under her head, while Sam leaned against the couch, absently flipping through the game cards.

"I say we leave the fort up," Lily declared, letting out a long yawn. "It's too cool to take down already."

Sam smirked. "You just don't want to clean up."

She turned her head to squint at him. "And you do?"

"Fair point," he admitted.

Mrs. Blake, who had been gathering up empty mugs and stray napkins, chuckled as she passed by. "You can keep it up for tonight," she said, "but it comes down tomorrow—and everyone helps."

"Deal," Lily said immediately, her voice sleepy.

Sam stretched his legs out. "Fine by me."

It was a unanimous decision, and with that, the fort remained standing—a cozy, patchwork structure of blankets and cushions that had become the centerpiece of the living room.

As the sky outside dimmed into soft purples and blues, the house settled into its familiar rhythm.

Mr. Blake had retreated to his office to catch up on work.

The doorbell rang, breaking through the chatter of the living room.

"I'll get it!" Lily announced, scrambling over the cushions and darting for the front door.

Mrs. Blake, wiping her hands on a dish towel, shook her head as she followed behind. "Lily, let's not scare the delivery person."

Lily pulled open the door with an excited grin. "Pizza's here!" she declared, bouncing on her heels as the delivery driver handed over the warm boxes. The smell of melted cheese, tangy tomato sauce, and toasted crust filled the air instantly, making my stomach growl.

Mrs. Blake exchanged money for the boxes, thanking the driver before closing the door. "Alright, everybody to the table," she called. "Sam, grab some plates."

The smell of pizza filled the house, wafting from the stack of boxes on the kitchen counter. It was a rare treat—Mrs. Blake didn't usually go for takeout, but after a day of fort-building and games, she declared she was too tired to cook. None of us argued.

Lily and I hovered near the boxes, trying to sneak a peek at the flavors, while Sam leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. "If there's pineapple on one of these, I'm not eating it," he announced, his nose wrinkled.

"Oh, relax, Sam," Mrs. Blake said with a smile as she started opening the boxes. "There are plenty of options for everyone."

We all scrambled to take our seats, Sam begrudgingly setting down a stack of plates and napkins as Mrs. Blake placed the pizza boxes in the center of the table. "One plain cheese, one pepperoni, and—" she paused dramatically, "one pineapple."

Sam groaned loudly. "You had to, didn't you? Pineapple does not belong on pizza," he declared, crossing his arms tighter.

Lily clapped her hands. "Of course! You refuse to see the truth, Sam." She lifted the lid of the pineapple pizza with reverence, as if unveiling a work of art. "It's perfect."

I grinned, reaching for a slice. "She's right, you know."

Sam looked personally betrayed. "Emily. Not you too."

Mrs. Blake sat down with a sigh, shaking her head in amusement as she picked up a plain cheese slice. Mr. Blake, who had just stepped into the kitchen from his office, raised an eyebrow at the argument already brewing at the table.

"What's the debate tonight?" he asked, reaching for a slice of cheese.

"Whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza," I explained.

"It does," Lily said firmly.

"It does not," Sam retorted. "Fruit is not a pizza topping."

"It's literally on a pizza, so obviously it is a pizza topping," Lily said smugly, taking a huge bite of her pineapple slice.

Sam turned to his father for backup. "Dad, tell them they're wrong."

Mr. Blake chewed thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "I think," he said finally, "that people should eat what they like and let others do the same."

"Coward," Sam muttered under his breath, earning a loud laugh from Lily.

Mrs. Blake chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. "Well, I think this is a perfect example of why I ordered multiple pizzas."

"More for us," I said to Lily, raising my slice in a toast. She clinked hers against mine, both of us grinning as we took another bite.

As the argument faded into easy conversation, the kitchen filled with laughter, warmth, and the sounds of a family just enjoying a meal together. Even Mr. Blake, who usually ate quickly and returned to his office, stayed longer than usual, chiming in between bites.

Mrs. Blake smiled, watching everyone with a look of quiet contentment. "You know," she said, "sometimes a simple meal is all you need to bring everyone together."

Sam huffed. "Yeah, until some people ruin it with—"

"Don't even start," Lily interrupted, making everyone burst into laughter again.

As we stood at the sink, the warm water running over our hands, Lily hummed softly to herself, swaying slightly as she rinsed a cup. The rhythmic clatter of dishes and the gentle hum of the dishwasher filled the kitchen, blending with the cozy after-dinner stillness. The scent of pizza still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint citrusy smell of dish soap.

"You're pretty quiet tonight," Lily said, breaking the comfortable silence as she handed me another plate.

I took it, wiping it down before carefully placing it into the dishwasher. "Just tired, I guess," I admitted, but I sent her a small smile to reassure her. "But it's a good tired."

Lily nodded, her eyes twinkling as she flicked a bit of soapy water at me playfully. "Yeah, today was fun. We should do it again next weekend."

I thought about the laughter over pizza, the friendly bickering, and the ridiculous argument about pineapple. The memory warmed me in a way I wasn't used to, a quiet but real happiness. It wasn't just the games or the food—it was the feeling of belonging, of being a part of something.

"Yeah," I said, my smile growing as I handed her a rinsed fork. "We definitely should."

Lily beamed before turning back to her task, her movements quick and practiced. She rinsed the last plate and set it in the rack before shaking out her hands dramatically. "And done!" she declared.

"Almost," I said, eyeing the countertop where crumbs still lingered.

Lily groaned exaggeratedly but grabbed a cloth and wiped the counters while I dried my hands. Across the kitchen, Sam trudged back in from taking the recycling out, shaking his head as if the five-minute task had been a monumental feat.

"The injustice," he muttered. "I do one thing, and suddenly I'm the designated recycling guy for life."

"You literally carried out two boxes," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "The suffering must be unbearable."

Mrs. Blake, who had been checking the fridge and putting away leftovers, turned with an amused smile. "Alright, you three, I think we can officially call it a job well done."

Lily threw up her arms in victory. "Then I declare it time for dessert!"

Sam perked up. "Wait, there's dessert?"

Mrs. Blake smirked as she pulled out a container of leftover brownies from the night before. "Just a little something to reward all your hard work."

Lily cheered, and Sam immediately abandoned his complaints in favor of grabbing a brownie off the plate. I took a piece as well, letting the rich, chocolatey taste melt on my tongue as we settled into the living room.

The night wound down slowly, the warmth of the kitchen giving way to the cozy dimness of the living room. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the walls, and a soft blanket of contentment settled over me as I curled up on the couch with my brownie.

Lily and Sam bickered good-naturedly over who got the bigger piece, but their laughter was light, easy. Mrs. Blake leaned back in her chair, sipping her tea with a peaceful expression, and for a moment, I let myself just be—wrapped up in the simple, steady comfort of the home around me.

Maybe I was still getting used to all of this—to the warmth, to the security, to the feeling of having people who cared. But as I took another bite of my brownie and listened to the familiar sounds of a family just existing together, I realized something.

I didn't feel out of place anymore.

I was here.

And that was enough.