The Harris house comes into view through the windshield, an elegant Victorian nestled among manicured gardens.

I glance at Chris in the rearview mirror, his face pressed against the window as we pull into the circular driveway. "You nervous, buddy?"

He tears his eyes away from the fountain in the center of the driveway, practically bouncing in his booster seat. "No way! Rose said her moms are even cooler than she is!"

A warmth spreads through my chest at his enthusiasm. After everything that's happened with Evelyn's disappearance, seeing him excited about anything feels like a miracle. "That's so kind of her to say," I tell him, parking behind Lilly's car.

Chris unbuckles himself with practiced ease and hops out before I can even turn off the engine. The front door swings open as we approach, and there's Rose, grinning widely, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders.

"Well, look who it is," Rose calls out with a playful smirk. "I see you brought the little brat with you!"

Before I can even react, Chris pipes up from beside me, "At least I'm not a bitch!"

My jaw practically unhinges itself and hits the ground. I whip my head toward Chris, completely shocked by what just came out of his nine-year-old mouth.

"Christopher!" I manage to sputter, trying to sound stern despite how funny what he said was. "We absolutely do not talk that way! Ever!"

Chris immediately shrinks back, his earlier excitement replaced with nervous fidgeting. He looks up at me with those big brown eyes that usually get him out of trouble, but I maintain my serious expression.

Meanwhile, Rose is doubled over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter. Tears are forming at the corners of her eyes as she tries and fails to compose herself.

"I'm sorry, Seth," she gasps between fits of giggles. "It's totally my fault. I told him to say that in front of you. I didn't think he'd actually do it!"

I shoot her an annoyed glare, but before I can say anything, a tall woman with elegant features and greyish auburn hair appears behind Rose. Margaret Harris's face is a perfect mask of disapproval as she fixes her daughter with an icy stare.

"Rose Harris," she says, her voice cutting through Rose's laughter like a frozen blade. "He is nine years old. That language is completely unacceptable."

Rose's laughter dies instantly. She straightens up, her face flushing nearly as red as her hair. "Sorry, Mom," she mumbles, suddenly looking like a scolded teenager instead of the confident woman I know.

The tension dissolves as quickly as it formed when Margaret turns her attention to Chris. Her stern expression melts into a warm smile that transforms her entire face.

"And you must be Christopher," she says, crouching down to his level. "I've heard so much about you from your brother and my daughters."

Chris, still a bit uncertain after his verbal faux pas, gives her a hesitant smile. "Hi," he says quietly.

"I'm Margaret," she continues, extending her hand to him formally like he's a little adult. "I'm Rose and Lilly's mom. Well, one of them anyway."

Chris surprises us all by launching himself forward, wrapping his arms around Margaret's waist in a tight hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harris! I'm Chris!" he exclaims, his face pressed against her sweater.

Margaret freezes for just a second, clearly caught off guard by this sudden display of affection. Then her face transforms, a soft glow spreading across her features as she gently returns the hug, her hands resting on Chris's small shoulders.

"Well, hello there," she says, her voice warm with something that sounds like nostalgia. The way she looks down at him, with that mixture of surprise and unmistakable joy, tells me everything I need to know about how much she's missed having a child in the house.

I stand awkwardly on the doorstep, watching this unexpected connection unfold. There's something about seeing my little brother in Margaret's arms that feels both strange and right at the same time.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs draws my attention. Victoria Harris descends with that commanding presence she always carries, her steel-gray hair perfectly styled, posture impeccable. She stops at the bottom of the staircase, taking in the scene before her with a raised eyebrow.

"And who do we have here?" she asks, though her tone suggests she already knows exactly who Chris is.

Chris pulls away from Margaret and turns toward Victoria, suddenly shy again. He shuffles his feet, looking up at this intimidating woman.

"Hello, Chris," Victoria says, stepping forward and extending her hand formally. "I'm Victoria. Welcome to our home."

"Hi," Chris mumbles, shaking her hand with surprising politeness. "Your house is really big."

Victoria's lips twitch with the hint of a smile. "Thank you. Perhaps you'd like a tour after dinner?"

Chris's eyes light up. "Can I see Rose's room?"

Rose makes a choking sound behind me. "Absolutely not, squirt. My room is off-limits."

"What about Lilly's?" Chris asks, undeterred.

"My room is also off-limits," comes Lilly's voice as she steps in from the hallway, her expression polite but firm. She gives Chris a small smile to soften the blow. "Maybe next time, though, okay? When we've had a chance to tidy up a bit."

Chris looks disappointed for only a second before bouncing back. "Okay!"

"Dinner is ready," Margaret announces, placing a gentle hand on Chris's shoulder. "Seth, why don't you all come to the dining room? I've made chicken."

I follow Margaret's lead, with Chris practically skipping alongside her. In the center of the table sits a perfectly roasted chicken, surrounded by roasted vegetables and what smells like fresh-baked rolls. My mouth waters at the sight.

I slide into a seat between Rose and Lilly, with Chris settling directly across from me. Victoria takes her place at the head of the table, her posture perfect as she unfolds her napkin with practiced grace.

"Wow," Chris whispers, his eyes wide as he takes in the spread. "Do you eat dinner like this every night?"

Margaret smiles as she takes her seat beside Victoria. "We used to, but these days it's down to maybe three or four times a week. The girls are so busy with school and their activities."

Chris looks between Rose and Lilly, his expression almost comically shocked. "You get to eat dinner with your moms that much even when you're busy?"

I feel a pang in my chest at his innocent question. The way he says it makes it sound like some incredible luxury, and I guess in our house, it is.

Margaret's brow furrows slightly. "Does your mother not eat dinner with you often, Chris?"

Chris shakes his head, seemingly untroubled by this fact. "No, but I usually get to eat dinner with Evelyn and Seth." His voice drops a little. "But Seth's been busy lately."

I feel my face heat up as all eyes at the table shift to me. The twins exchange one of their silent communications, and Margaret's expression softens into something that looks dangerously close to pity.

"Well," Victoria says, breaking the awkward silence with her commanding tone, "you're welcome at our table anytime, Christopher." She begins carving the chicken with expert precision. "Seth too, of course."

"Thank you," I manage, trying not to think about how many meals Chris has eaten without me lately. Between classes and the twins, I haven't been as present as I should be. The guilt sits heavy in my stomach.

"Evelyn's on vacation right now, but Rose and Lilly have been playing with me since then!" Chris says, scooping a small mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

My stomach drops as I watch Margaret's expression shift. Her forehead creases with concern as she exchanges a quick glance with Victoria.

"We... Heard about your nanny," Margaret says carefully, setting down her fork.

Victoria clears her throat. "Hopefully she'll be back from vacation soon."

Margaret looks at a complete loss for words, her mouth opening slightly before closing again without sound.

"I hope so, too," Chris says cheerfully, completely oblivious to the tension filling the room.

Something breaks inside me as I watch my little brother talk about Evelyn like she's just away on some trip. I feel so woefully unable of providing an environment Chris needs to thrive. I feel my eyes burning, throat tightening as I stare down at my plate, trying desperately to hold myself together. The chicken I was so excited about moments ago now looks completely unappetizing.

I feel Lilly's hand on my back, moving in small, soothing circles. "We're all family here, okay?" she whispers, her voice gentle but firm.

I nod, pulling the tears back before they can fall. "Thank you," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

Victoria, seemingly sensing my distress, smoothly changes the subject. "Christopher, do you play any sports at school?"

Dinner continues, and I find myself relaxing as Chris animatedly describes his school's playground to Victoria, who listens with surprising attentiveness. The knot in my chest loosens slightly watching him flourish under the attention of these women who actually seem interested in what he has to say.

"And then Jenny fell off the monkey bars and cried, but I didn't even though I fell from higher up last week," Chris boasts, puffing out his small chest.

"Very brave," Victoria comments with the hint of a smile, and Chris beams like he's just received a medal.

Margaret keeps my plate filled, shooting me concerned glances whenever she thinks I'm not looking. The food is incredible, rich, homemade comfort that tastes like everything I've tried and failed to cook for Chris over the years.

By the time dessert is served, a warm apple crumble that makes Chris's eyes go wide. The shadow of Evelyn's absence seems temporarily lifted from his shoulders as he chatters away, fitting into this family dynamic like he's always belonged here.

"This is so good," Chris mumbles through a mouthful of crumble, earning a gentle reminder from Margaret about talking with his mouth full.

After dinner, we move to the living room where Rose immediately challenges Chris to some game I’ve never heard of. Lilly joins them on the plush sectional, offering advice that has Chris giggling as he mashes buttons on the controller.

I'm about to settle in beside them when I feel a light touch on my elbow. I turn to find Victoria standing beside me, Margaret just behind her.

"Seth, could we have a word with you for a moment?" Victoria asks, her voice low enough that the others can't hear over the game sounds.

"Of course," I reply, glancing back at Chris, who's completely absorbed in the game, Rose dramatically lamenting her imminent defeat beside him.

Victoria leads the way down the hallway, Margaret following behind me like they're escorting a prisoner. My stomach tightens with sudden anxiety. Have I done something wrong? Is this about Chris's language earlier?

We enter what must be Victoria's study, an imposing room lined with bookshelves and dominated by a massive mahogany desk. The door clicks shut behind us with a finality that makes my palms sweat.

"Please, sit," Victoria gestures to a leather chair positioned across from the desk.

I lower myself into it, the leather creaking under my weight. Victoria takes her place behind the desk while Margaret perches on the edge of it, both of them watching me with expressions I can't quite read.

"Seth," Victoria begins, folding her hands on the desk. "We wanted to speak with you privately about your current situation."

I swallow hard, feeling like I'm suddenly being interviewed for a job I didn't apply for. "My situation?"

Margaret shifts uncomfortably on the edge of the desk, her fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. She exchanges a quick glance with Victoria before meeting my eyes.

"Seth, we don't want to overstep our boundaries," Margaret begins, her voice gentle but uncertain. "And honestly, we hadn't even planned to bring this up tonight, but seeing Chris here with us..."

She trails off, looking to Victoria for support. My stomach tightens further as Victoria straightens in her chair, taking over where her wife left off.

"Lilly came to us with a suggestion earlier today," Victoria explains, her tone measured and calm. "And I want to be clear that this is entirely your decision. There's no pressure whatsoever."

I look between them, confusion mingling with the anxiety already churning in my gut. "What kind of suggestion?"

Margaret leans forward, her eyes soft with concern. "With Evelyn missing and your mother being... well, unavailable most of the time, we thought perhaps..." She takes a deep breath. "Perhaps we could adopt Christopher."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I actually feel myself rock back in the chair, my mind struggling to process what I've just heard.

"Adopt him?" I repeat, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. "You want to take Chris?"

"Not take," Victoria clarifies quickly. "Adopt. Legally. He would still be your brother, Seth.”

"We have the space, the resources," Margaret adds, her words coming faster now. "And most importantly, we have the time to give him the attention he deserves."

"But you both work full-time," I say, my voice coming out smaller than I intended. The idea of Chris being adopted by the Harris family sends my thoughts spinning in a dozen different directions at once.

Margaret's expression softens immediately. "Oh, Seth." She slides off the desk edge and moves closer to me. "I only work because I have nothing better to do with my time after Lilly and Rose grew up. I'd quit my job in a heartbeat to take care of Christopher."

I blink, trying to process this unexpected offer. These successful, accomplished women are willing to completely rearrange their lives for my little brother? For us?

"We'd be happy to have you move in too, Seth," Victoria adds, her usually stern face showing a warmth I've rarely seen. "We have more than enough rooms."

My mouth opens, but no words come out. Part of me wants to be offended, to insist that I can take care of Chris myself. But another part wonders if this is the best option long term.

Margaret reaches out and takes my hand between both of hers. "And with the way Lilly and Rose talk about you..." She pauses, a gentle smile playing across her lips. "I know it's early, but you already feel like family to us."

"I don't know what to say," I finally manage, my throat tight with emotion. "It’s not up to me. It’d be up to my mother."

Victoria leans forward, her expression softening. "We understand that, Seth. And we also understand that Evelyn could very well return. This isn't about replacing anyone."

"We don't want to approach your mother if you're uncomfortable with the idea," Margaret adds, her hands still clasping mine. "This needs to feel right for you first."

Victoria nods, her posture remaining perfect even as her voice gentles. "Your mother might very well say no. But we wanted to at least hear your thoughts on it before proceeding any further."

I look between them, these two women who've welcomed me into their home with such genuine warmth. The question tumbles from my lips before I can stop it.

"If you adopted Chris, would you love him like he was really your own flesh and blood?"

Margaret's answer comes without a moment's hesitation. "Of course, Seth. I wouldn't treat him any differently than how I raised my own daughters." Her eyes shine with such sincerity that something in my chest aches.

"He's a good kid, Seth," Victoria adds, the corners of her mouth lifting in a subtle smile.

"He's a child, though," I counter, feeling the need to be completely honest. "He still throws tantrums. He can be difficult."

Victoria waves this away like it's nothing. "Just like any other child would."

"Rose was the queen of tantrums," Margaret chuckles, shaking her head at the memory. "But we handled it. We have experience with difficult children, believe me."

I fall silent, turning the idea over in my mind. The image of Chris at the dinner table tonight, animated and happy in a way I haven't seen since Evelyn disappeared, rises in my thoughts. The way Margaret looked at him, like he was something precious. The way Victoria listened to his playground stories with genuine interest.

"If Evelyn doesn't come back," I finally say, the words feeling heavy on my tongue, "you have my blessing. But I have no idea how my mom will react. She's hard to gauge."

Victoria straightens, a determined look crossing her face. "Don't worry about her. We can approach her on our own, okay?"

Before I can respond, Margaret pulls me into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around me with maternal warmth I haven't felt in years. "I promise to make you both feel so at home here," she whispers, and I can hear the emotion in her voice.

When she releases me, I'm surprised to find my own eyes stinging with unshed tears. The thought of Chris having this, two attentive parents, family dinners, a stable home, it's overwhelming in the best possible way.