The house feels impossibly small with this many people crammed into it. It's early--too early for most of them--but Liam is already at the kitchen table, poring over the same pile of paperwork I've seen him with every morning this week. He's wearing his reading glasses, the ones Kate got him for Father's Day two years ago, and the lines on his forehead seem deeper today. There's a cup of coffee by his elbow, half-empty, probably cold by now.

I grab my own mug from the cabinet, careful to keep quiet. The kids are still asleep--well, most of them. Sam's room is packed, and I don't know how they managed it. Maggie, Jordan, Tasha, and Kate all stayed over last night, and I'd swear it felt like a clown car in there. Sam on the bed, Jordan on the floor, Tasha on the tiny inflatable mattress we dragged out of the basement, and Kate on her own setup next to the wall.

I half expected them to revolt after one night like that, but they seemed fine. Teenagers can tolerate a lot, apparently.

"Coffee's still fresh," Liam says, glancing up. He looks like he hasn't slept much, but I know better than to ask. I've had those sleepless nights too.

"Thanks." I pour myself a cup and settle across from him at the table. Papers are spread out everywhere--insurance forms, bank statements, some official-looking correspondence I don't want to think too hard about. "Any progress?"

He lets out a low sigh, running a hand over his short-cropped hair. "Not really. They've got a certified fire investigator looking into it, which is... good, I guess. But until they make a ruling on whether it was a supervillain attack, the payout's frozen. I don't know, I guess I didn't worry enough about supervillains to get specific insurance against them. I was more concerned with regular old fire."

"Supervillain attack," I echo, bitterness creeping into my voice. "Because that's such an easy thing to define."

Liam huffs a quiet laugh, more air than sound. "Yeah. Apparently, they need to determine if Aaron McKinley's actions were deliberate or incidental. If the fire was just collateral damage, it might qualify as... ordinary arson."

"Ordinary," I say, shaking my head. "Like that makes it any better."

He shrugs, and for a moment, I see the exhaustion weighing on him. "It is what it is. At least we've got the emergency housing funds. That's something."

"Not enough," I mutter. I don't mean it to sound harsh, but the words come out anyway. Liam doesn't flinch, though; we've known each other too long for him to take it personally.

We lapse into silence for a moment, sipping our coffees. Outside, the sun is just starting to rise, casting a faint glow through the blinds. The house creaks faintly, its old bones protesting the chill morning air.

"Kate seems..." I start, then hesitate. Liam looks up, waiting. "She seems okay. Considering everything."

He nods, but his mouth twists like he's not sure he believes it. "She's tough. Always has been."

"She gets that from you," I say, and he lets out a small laugh.

"I don't know about that," he says. "She's a lot tougher than I ever was."

The sound of feet thumping down the stairs breaks the quiet. Sam appears in the doorway, hoodie half-zipped, her hair sticking out at odd angles. Her eyes flick between us, landing briefly on the stack of papers before she turns toward the fridge.

When did she get her ears pierced? I take a mental note to ask her about that some other time. Two circular black studs, one per ear. I didn't even know she could do that. I figured her... healing would squeeze them out.

"Morning," she mumbles.

"Morning," I say, watching as she rummages for a yogurt. "The others still asleep?"

"Maggie's up," she says, voice muffled by the fridge door. "She's hogging the bathroom."

"Of course she is," Liam says dryly, and Sam cracks a small smile.

She grabs a yogurt and leans against the counter, eating silently. I try not to stare, but it's hard not to notice the way she holds her right arm close to her body, the stiffness in her movements. Even with the oversized hoodie, I can see the outline of the bandages underneath. The burns are healing, slowly but surely, but they're still a painful reminder of everything she's been through. Yeah, she'll be better physically way faster than any of us would've been... but will she be better, you know, mentally? Emotionally?

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I can't imagine being set on fire is very fun.

I sip my coffee and glance at Liam, who's watching her too, his brow furrowed. "You ready to waterproof that before we head out?" I ask Sam gently.

She nods, pushing off the counter. "Yeah. I'll grab the stuff."

She disappears down the hall, and Liam leans back in his chair with a sigh. "She's a lot tougher than she lets on."

"She gets that from you," I say again, and this time it earns a quiet laugh from both of us.

By the time the rest of the house stirs to life, the kitchen is full of people and noise. Maggie comes in first, still toweling off her wet hair, followed by Jordan and Tasha in matching sweats. Kate appears last, quieter than a mouse, clutching her inhaler like a talisman.

The kitchen table becomes a battlefield of toast, cereal boxes, and stray mugs. Ben joins us at some point, yawning and blinking like an owl as he pours himself a cup of coffee. There's a rhythm to it, a strange kind of choreography as we navigate around each other in the cramped space.

"Who's riding with who?" Maggie asks, already halfway through a bowl of Lucky Charms.

"Sam, Jordan, and Maggie with me and Ben," I say, wiping crumbs off the counter. "Liam, you've got Kate and Tasha."

Maggie groans. "Why can't I ride with Kate? She's more fun."

Kate raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Sam matches her almost simultaneously. It's Liam who speaks, his tone light but firm. "Because I don't trust you to navigate without getting us lost."

"You have a GPS!" Maggie protests.

"And yet," Liam says, smiling faintly as he sips his coffee.

Sam doesn't join the banter. She's sitting on the couch, fiddling with the zipper on her hoodie. I can see her watching Kate out of the corner of her eye, her expression unreadable. I don't know what happened between them--I just know that something did. They've been distant since the fire, their conversations stilted and awkward in a way that doesn't make sense to me. They were best friends once, inseparable for years.

I wonder if Kate notices the way Sam glances at her. If she feels the same gulf that I do.

It takes longer than it should to get everyone out the door. Liam checks the straps on the roof rack twice before loading up his car. Ben insists on rearranging the bags in the trunk for maximum efficiency, which earns him an exasperated look from Sam. Maggie argues with Jordan about who gets shotgun before Ben shuts them both down (he is not sitting in the back squeezed between two teenagers, he argues successfully), and Tasha quietly slides into the backseat of Liam's car with her headphones already in place.

By the time we pull out onto I-95, the sun is fully up, the faint haze of morning giving way to a bright, clear day. The highway stretches out ahead of us, and for a moment, it feels like we're leaving the weight of the week - the month, the year, the life - behind.

In the car, Maggie is humming along to the radio, her voice light and carefree. Jordan is scrolling through their phone, occasionally chiming in with sarcastic commentary. Sam leans against the window, her head resting on the glass, her eyes half-closed.

I glance at her in the rearview mirror, my chest tightening. She looks so tired, and I know it's not just from lack of sleep. She carries so much more than she should have to, more than any sixteen-year-old should.

"Everyone okay back there?" I ask, more to fill the silence than anything else.

"We're fine," Maggie says brightly, kicking Sam's foot lightly. "Right, Sam?"

"Yeah," Sam mutters without opening her eyes.

I keep my eyes on the road, the hum of the tires steady beneath us. It's a long drive to the Poconos, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the distance will give us all a chance to breathe.

----------------------------------------

The hum of the highway fills the car, a steady backdrop to the faint sounds of the radio. Maggie has commandeered the station, flipping between pop hits and 90s throwbacks with the persistence of someone who can't sit still for long. Jordan sits quietly beside her, one arm draped lazily over the window, occasionally rolling their eyes at Maggie's choices. Sam leans against the window in the backseat, her face turned toward the blur of trees and overpasses. She hasn't said much since we left, but I catch glimpses of her in the rearview mirror--eyes half-closed, almost peaceful.

The drive feels timeless, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your chest. Ben and I switched half an hour ago - I felt myself getting highway hypnosis and didn't want to let it become a problem. He has one hand on the wheel and the other on the armrest, his fingers drumming idly in time with the music. Every so often, he mutters something under his breath about the way other people drive, and I smile faintly, letting his voice ground me.

We pass a sign for a Wawa at the next exit, and Ben flicks his turn signal. "We'll meet them here," he says, mostly to himself. Liam's car is a little behind us, and the stop feels like a natural point to regroup. Maggie cheers from the back seat, already proclaiming her need for snacks.

When we pull into the lot, Liam's car isn't far behind. He parks two spaces over, and I watch as Tasha unfolds herself from the backseat, her headphones still perched over her ears. Kate slides out of the passenger side, her movements careful and deliberate. She lingers near the car, stretching as Liam heads toward the store with a nod in our direction.

The air is brisk but not biting, the kind of cool that wakes you up after a long stretch of highway. Sam steps out slowly, favoring her left side, but she doesn't complain. Maggie bounds out after her, spinning on her heel to look at Jordan.

"Coffee run," Maggie declares. "You in?"

Jordan smirks, unfolding themselves from the passenger seat. "If it gets me through another hour of your playlist, sure."

I glance at Ben, who shrugs and follows them. "I'll grab us something too," he says, his hand brushing my arm lightly before he heads inside.

For a moment, it's just me and Liam in the lot. He looks tired, but his smile is easy, the kind you wear when you're trying not to think too hard about everything else.

"Making good time," he says, nodding toward the cars.

"Not bad," I reply, watching as Sam and Kate exchange a few quiet words by the curb. There's a strange distance between them, but it's hard to tell if it's the moment or something deeper.

Liam follows my gaze, but he doesn't comment. Instead, he lets out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as Tasha joins the others in the store. "Feels nice to get out of the city," he says.