The front door swung open before Quinn could finish knocking.
"Quinn!" Sarah's voice was full of excitement. She immediately pulled him into a hug that pressed the air from his lungs. Her embrace was warm and familiar.
Behind her, two small figures appeared.
"Uncle Quinn!" Lily, all of six years old with a missing front tooth, launched herself at his legs. He laughed and bent down to scoop her into his arms. She smelled like juice and felt surprisingly heavy.
"Hey, squirt. You're getting so big," he said, adjusting her on his hip.
Tom, older by four years and trying very hard to act cool about it, stood back in the hallway. He gave a small wave. "Hey, Quinn."
"Tom," Quinn nodded, giving him a genuine smile. "Good to see you."
Mark, Sarah's husband, came in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "He's here. Good, you're just in time to be useful," he said with a friendly grin. He walked over and shook Quinn's hand firmly, patting him on the shoulder. "How was the drive?"
"It was fine. No traffic," Quinn answered, finally setting a wiggling Lily back on the floor.
The house was filled with the loud, happy noises of a family. Toys were scattered across the living room floor, and something smelled good cooking in the kitchen. It was exactly as he remembered.
"I made you something," Lily announced, tugging on the hem of his jacket. She pulled him toward the small table in the corner of the living room.
On it was a piece of paper held down by magnets. The drawing was done in bright crayon. It showed a tall stick figure with messy brown hair standing next to a smaller stick figure with bright yellow hair. A crudely drawn sun was in the corner. Underneath the figures, in wobbly letters, were the names 'QUINN' and 'LILY'.
"It's for your new place," she said, looking up at him with serious eyes.
Quinn felt a real smile spread across his face. He crouched down to her level. "This is the best drawing I have ever seen. I'll put it on my refrigerator as soon as I get one."
She beamed, her gap-toothed smile making him feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature of the house. He gently took the drawing from the table and folded it carefully, placing it in his inside jacket pocket.
"Hey, Quinn," Mark called from the kitchen. "Since you have a knack for this stuff, can you give me a hand? The sink is dripping again. It's making a really annoying sound."
"Sure," Quinn said, following him.
The kitchen sink had a slow, steady drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound was small but constant. Mark had a wrench and a few other tools laid out on a towel on the counter.
"I've tightened everything I can think to tighten," Mark said, gesturing to the faucet with the wrench.
Quinn leaned under the sink, the small space smelling of cleaning supplies. He located the problem quickly, a loose connection nut that was hard to reach. He positioned the wrench and gave it a firm turn. The dripping stopped.
"There you go," Quinn said, sliding back out.
"Thanks. I swear, I spent an hour on that yesterday," Mark said, putting the tools away. He leaned against the counter and looked at Quinn. "So, have you found a new job yet? Or are you still looking?"
Quinn shrugged, avoiding his brother-in-law's direct look. "Still looking. I picked up some short-term work last week, but it's done now."
"You should look for something more permanent, Quinn. Something stable," Mark suggested. His tone wasn't critical, just practical.
"I know," Quinn said. "I just haven't found a place that feels right. I get bored easily. The last job was too repetitive."
Mark nodded slowly. "Well, this town has plenty of steady work if you decide you want to stay for a while. We'd love to have you closer."
The offer was sincere, but the thought of settling down in one place made Quinn feel a familiar tension in his chest.
Dinner was spaghetti and meatballs. Tom and Lily argued about who got the last piece of garlic bread. Sarah told them both to use their inside voices. Mark talked about a project at his construction job. It was all very normal.
Quinn ate and listened. He answered questions about his small apartment and laughed when Tom told a joke he clearly didn't understand. He felt comfortable here, surrounded by the easy flow of their lives. It was a good feeling, but it also felt like he was watching a television show about a family, and he was just a guest star for the evening.
Later, after the dishes were cleared and the kids were in their pajamas, Lily asked Quinn to tuck her in.
Her room was painted a light pink, with glowing stars stuck to the ceiling. Quinn sat on the edge of her bed as she snuggled under a thick blanket decorated with cartoon animals.
"Tell me a story," she whispered.
"Okay," Quinn said softly. "Once upon a time, there was a very brave knight. But this knight didn't fight dragons. He helped them. One day, he found a small dragon who couldn't fly because his wing was hurt. So the knight brought the dragon back to his castle and took care of him until he was all better. And they became best friends."
Lily's eyes were already starting to close. "That's a nice story."
"Yeah, it is," he said. He pulled the blanket up to her chin and smoothed her hair back from her forehead. He leaned down and gave her a light kiss on her cheek. "Goodnight, squirt."
"Goodnight, Uncle Quinn," she murmured, already half asleep.
He closed her door quietly and went back downstairs. Sarah and Mark had already gone to their room, the quiet of the house a stark contrast to the energy of a few hours before.
Quinn sank onto the living room couch. He didn't feel tired. He picked up the remote and turned on the television, keeping the volume low. A national news channel was on, showing politicians arguing. He flipped through the channels, not really watching anything.
The peace of the house was complete, yet the restlessness inside him was as loud as ever. He felt safe here, but he also felt like he didn't belong. It was a feeling he carried with him everywhere he went.
His thumb stopped on a local news station. A reporter was standing in front of a fire station, talking about a new budget. Quinn wasn't paying attention to her words, but his eyes caught the text scrolling along the bottom of the screen.
The ticker moved slowly, listing sports scores and weather updates. Then, a new headline appeared.
LOCAL NEWS: Blackwood Institute addresses minor security breach, officials state there is no public risk.
Quinn read the words without much interest. It was just another headline about some local company he had never heard of. He changed the channel, and the name disappeared from the screen. He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, unaware that those words were about to change everything.