Wednesday afternoons always feel like stolen time, like I'm playing hooky even though my last class got canceled. The house is quiet when I slip through the front door, dropping my backpack by the stairs with a satisfying thud.

"Hello?" I call out, my voice echoing through the empty rooms. No answer.

I collapse onto the couch, savoring the rare moment of solitude. The twins weren't exactly thrilled when I told them I needed today for Chris. Rose pouted dramatically, of course, while Lilly's disappointment showed only in the slight tightening around her eyes. But they understood, or at least pretended to.

"He's your brother," Lilly had said, her fingers brushing against mine in that possessive way she has. "Family comes first."

"Just don't forget who else comes first," Rose added with a wink that made heat rush to my face even in the middle of the crowded cafeteria.

I check my phone, scrolling through the twins' texts from throughout the day. Rose has sent me three selfies and a string of increasingly suggestive emojis. Lilly's messages are more restrained but somehow more intimate, questions about my day, a reminder to eat lunch, a single heart emoji that feels more meaningful than Rose's barrage.

The sound of a car door slamming jerks me from my thoughts. Chris should be home from school now. I push myself off the couch, eager to see my little brother after what feels like forever. Maybe we can play video games or watch one of those Mr. Beast videos he likes.

‘Is it Ms. Beast in this world?’

The front door swings open, and my heart instantly plummets. Chris stands in the doorway, his small shoulders hunched forward, face red and blotchy from crying. Evelyn follows close behind, her expression grim as she places a protective hand on his shoulder.

"Chris?" I'm across the room in seconds, dropping to one knee to meet his eyes. "What's wrong, buddy?"

Chris's lower lip trembles as fresh tears well up. He scrubs at his face with his sleeve, trying to hide the evidence of his crying, but it's too late. My chest tightens seeing him like this, so small and vulnerable.

"Evelyn?" I ask, eyes darting between her and my brother's tear-streaked face. "What happened?"

She sighs, closing the front door behind them. "A girl in his class has been picking on him," she explains softly.

Something cold and hard settles in my chest. "He's being bullied?" The words come out sharper than I intended.

Evelyn catches my tone and gives me a warning look before turning to Chris with a gentle smile. "Hey, why don't we sit down and talk about this, okay? We can figure it out together."

She guides Chris toward the kitchen with a hand on his shoulder. I follow them, my mind already racing with scenarios of confronting whoever made my little brother cry. We settle around the kitchen table, Chris sniffling as he climbs into his usual chair.

"Can you tell Seth what you told me in the car?" Evelyn prompts softly.

Chris stares down at the table, tracing invisible patterns with his finger. "Her name is Martha Reed," he mumbles.

"What's she doing to you?" I lean forward, trying to keep my voice calm despite the anger bubbling up inside me.

He wipes his nose with his sleeve. "She keeps saying I'm stupid and poor. And she hits me sometimes." His voice cracks. "Today during recess, she pushed me so hard and I fell."

I immediately scan him for injuries, gently taking his hands and turning them over to check for scrapes. I lift his chin, examining his face, then check his elbows, where his jacket has dirt stains.

"I'm okay," he insists, pulling away from my inspection. "Just got dirty."

"Did you tell your teacher?" I ask, relieved he doesn't seem physically hurt.

Chris shakes his head, fresh tears welling in his eyes. "Martha said if I told, she'd make it worse."

"That's classic bully behavior," Evelyn says quietly. "Threatening to escalate if the victim reports it."

I clench my fists under the table, trying to keep my expression neutral for Chris's sake. "Has this been happening a lot?"

"Just the last couple weeks," Chris mumbles. "She used to be nice to me."

"I think she might have a crush on him," Evelyn says softly, giving Chris a sympathetic look.

My head snaps up. "A crush? You think that's an excuse for this?"

I can feel my blood pressure rising as I stare at Evelyn in disbelief. The suggestion that this girl's feelings somehow justify hurting my brother makes something snap inside me.

"I don't care if she's in love with him," I say firmly. "That's completely unacceptable. No one is allowed to bully my little brother."

Chris looks up at me with those big, watery eyes, and my heart breaks a little more. I've been so wrapped up in my own drama with the twins that I didn't even notice what was happening to him.

"Reed," I repeat, the name suddenly clicking in my brain. "Martha Reed. Any relation to Allie Reed?"

Evelyn tilts her head. "I'm not sure. Why?"

"I went to high school with an Allie Reed. She was a year ahead of me." I pull out my phone and start typing. "I'm going to look her up."

I navigate to the whitepages site, fingers moving quickly as I search for Reed families in our area. It doesn't take long to find an address for an A. Reed not far from us. Has to be her.

"I'm going to talk to her mother," I announce, already standing up from the table.

"What? No!" Chris jumps up, panic flashing across his face. "Please don't, Seth! She'll just make things worse!"

Evelyn reaches for my arm. "Maybe we should think about this. Going to her house might escalate…"

"Evelyn," I cut her off, my voice steady but firm, "please stay here with Chris. I need to handle this."

She looks like she wants to argue, but eventually nods. "Alright."

Chris is still shaking his head, tears threatening to spill again. I kneel down in front of him, placing my hands on his small shoulders.

"Christopher," I say, making sure to use his full name so he knows I'm serious. "I'm your brother, okay? I promise when I'm done today, she won't ever bully you again."

His lower lip trembles. "You promise?"

"I promise." I hold his gaze until he finally nods.

"Okay," he whispers.

I ruffle his hair and stand up, grabbing my keys from the counter. As I head toward the door, Evelyn follows me.

"What exactly are you planning to do?" she asks in a hushed tone, glancing back to make sure Chris can't hear us.

"Just talk," I assure her, though my mind is racing with much less civil scenarios. "Parents should know what their kids are doing, right?"

She doesn't look convinced, but doesn't try to stop me either. "Call me if you need anything."

“Alright.”