Dante never got used to places like this. He risked a glance, raking his eyes over the lush green lawns and the immaculate facades of nearly identical houses. It looked like a set from some eighties sitcom. It was far too perfect. There was no trash on the sidewalks, no faded paint, and everything had the same colors. It must have been the work of a homeowners association. Places like this always had them.


    It felt as if the place was rejecting him, that he did not belong. He could feel all the judging gazes from velvet-wreathed windows, and imagined some well-to-do housewife drawing those curtains and locking the door. A drop of sweat rolled down his face and he fought the urge to hunch.


    He needed a distraction. Anything to get out of his head.


    One of the pillars of a nearby house caught his eye and he squinted at it. Was that … marble? It was always marble with the rich, no matter how gaudy it looked to everyone else. This place speaks money, he thought while eyeing a brand-new Mercedes-Benz. A make and model that he did not recognize — and he had seen a fair few.


    He reckoned that it was worth easily a hundred grand. He allowed himself to imagine for a moment how that leather-clad steering wheel would feel beneath his fingers, the air breezing through his hair.


    Bliss.


    Now, if it was a few years ago I would … He would what exactly? Even in his prime, he knew better than to target such neighborhoods. This was where real power lay, and you did not mess with that.


    At least the fantasy took the edge off. He sighed and “ — You lost Sonny?”


    Dante jumped and looked to the road, where a car had pulled to a stop. This one wasn’t quite the specimen that he had spied before, but was still a classic. Driving it was an old woman, likely older than her vehicle by an order of magnitude. She gazed at him through tortoiseshell spectacles in a manner reminiscent of a disapproving librarian.


    She cleared her throat and said rather pointedly, "It isn''t that long until the curfew, Hon. Shouldn’t you be getting home to your parents?"


    The harpy gave him a meaningful look and Dante repressed yet another sigh, pushing down a familiar surge of irritation. He had worn his best slacks, dress shirt, and cleanest pair of sneakers to try to avoid such a situation. Wasted effort it seemed …


    “Thank you for your concern ma''am,” he said, not meaning a word of it. “However, I am not underage so the curfew … ” He trailed off as he saw her disbelieving look and resignedly reached for his wallet, flipped it open, and showed her his license. What a nosy woman, he thought as she leaned out of the car''s window to peer skeptically at the card. Dante wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of a strong floral perfume applied way too liberally.


    “I’ll be darned, so you are 23. You don’t look it.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “If that''s the case, then why are you here? I don’t recognize you and I know everyone on the block”


    Of course she does.


    “I am here to visit my sister. In fact, I am now quite late. If you don’t mind?” Dante began walking off, fully intending to leave this Karen behind before feeling something snag his sleeve.


    A wave of burning anger swept through him and, fighting to keep a snarl off his face, he turned around to see that the woman had taken hold of his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip. He had given black eyes for less. His breath came in short and fast and he almost made that mistake before he caught himself.


    I can do better than that now. I must.


    Something of his struggle must have made its way to his face, despite his best efforts, as she gently let go of his sleeve.


    “Look, I want to make sure that you are for the right reasons. If you would just say who you are going to — ” Dante interrupted her, nearly out of patience.


    “The McClellans place, I believe their house number is 1467?”


    The woman blinked rapidly, obviously caught off guard. “Yes, that’s correct. I see that — ”


    Dante did not hear her last words as he had started walking away. He was out of patience. Checking his phone, he cursed. Shit, I am a half an hour late! She is never going to let me live this down.


    Now that he was away from that encounter, Dante felt a pang of regret. He could have handled that situation better. Sure, she had been the one to escalate things when she had touched him, but he knew that was no excuse. It was going to be awkward every time he visited this neighborhood. Now he knew for sure that there was someone who disliked him here. He hoped the old woman did not spread any rumors.


    It hadn’t helped either that his new Demesnes & Daemons game with Ray had run overtime, which always seemed to happen. Really, who could have expected that the necromancer had hidden zombies in the swamp water and that baseline zombies were THAT strong? Battle rating one-quarter his ass, it had taken only six of the bastards had taken down him and half the party before he had excused himself. Dante wouldn’t be surprised if they were still at it.


    He shook himself out of his reminiscing. He had to be careful. The first time he had tried to find the house, he had walked right past it and had gotten lost so badly that his sister had to fetch him. That was one of his more mortifying memories.


    If I remember correctly, the house should be around here. Let’s see … 1463 … 1465 … There! 1467.


    In front of him lay a house much like any other in the neighborhood. It was a rather large house, bordering on a mansion, that was primarily made of white stucco, brick, and marble. It fit in perfectly with the aesthetic of the neighborhood. Personally, Dante thought that spoke to a lack of taste.


    The grounds in front — it was much too large to be called a yard — bore an extensive garden full of blooming flowers, landscaped trees, and an artificial stream. Even the air smelled better here, laden with that fresh-cut lawn smell and sweet scent of blooming flowers. All together, it gave off the sense of a natural oasis that Dante knew for a fact was the result of many thousands of hours of painstaking care. He had seen the gardeners at work.


    Was it any surprise that he always hesitated there before crossing the threshold?


    At that moment, he realized that something had changed since his last visit. A sign had been staked into the landscape where it was easily visible from the street. Dante squinted in the twilight to read it.


    Protected by … Vantage Security Systems? Seriously? He began the rather long walk to the house entrance and wondered if he should bother informing the McClellans about the massive mistake they’d made.


    Honestly, it was quite like them to fall for the advertising without doing their research. A cursory search would find several lawsuits concerning how ineffectual their systems are. Problems that he knew for a fact were never fixed. Some criminals targeted only marks with Vantage Security.


    They did have effective advertising.


    Any further considerations were cut off as he neared the oak and wrought iron door. This was it.


    Dante took a moment to straighten his now unruly hair and quickly realized it for the futile effort that it was — his curls could be so fickle. Not giving himself a chance to overthink, he depressed the doorbell and heard its crystal chimes resonate through the house. Just as he was wondering if he should press it again, he heard quick footsteps on the other side and then the sound of the latch opening.


    Please, please, please let it be Sis and not —


    The door swung open to reveal a tall man with a rather severe expression on his face.


    Him.


    Reginald McClellan was a broad man with sloped shoulders and a generous gut. His black hair, peppered with white, revealed that he was well into his sixties. He looked every bit the college professor that he was with his casual slacks and a sporty dress shirt with a half-done tie.


    It was likely that he had arrived home not long ago. After all, Dante had planned to arrive at the house before he was slated to return home simply to avoid such a situation.


    Mr. McClellan eyed him sternly, looking him up and down. His gaze caught on Dante’s right hand, as it always did, and Dante subconsciously covered his two missing fingers. Dante had never quite figured out why this always happened and would probably never know. He certainly was never going to ask the man. Looking up, he nearly missed a flash of something on Mr. McClellan’s face — was it sympathy? — before the perpetual frown replaced it.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    A frown that he leveled straight at Dante.


    “You are late Mr. Embry.”


    “Sorry Sir, my …” Dante hesitated. Likely talking about the encounter with that nosy woman would color Mr. McClellan’s view of him further. “That is, I missed my first bus. Because I overslept, because of the new job.”


    The frown deepened and Dante winced. Smooth.


    “Well, not that it matters, Sophia is still getting ready.” Mr. McClellan''s eyes flitted from his sweaty face to his untamed hair, his expression hardening. “She wants to look good for her brother’s big day.”


    “Ah, I see. That’s a relief.” With that, the silence that he had been dreading descended upon the two of them.


    What do I do? Is he not going to invite me in?


    Dante gazed from the still mostly closed door to Mr. McClellan, who was hiding most of his view with his frame. It hurt him that they had not achieved even that small level of trust. Dante had only ever been inside that house a handful of times, he should not have expected today to be any different.


    Still, this is so awkward. Dante shifted from side to side, fighting the urge to peer over the man''s shoulder.


    Is Sophia seriously not ready? I can’t just stand here and stare down at her stepfather. C’mon Dante think, there has to be something that you can talk about with him!


    He racked his brain for anything that they shared in common and quickly concluded that he knew nothing about the man. It wasn’t like either of them had the desire to ever make an effort to get to know the other. Still, there must be something.


    So caught up in his thoughts, Dante nearly missed it when Mr. McClellan was the one who broke the silence.


    “That job of yours going well?”


    Dante stared at the man for a second. He had never shown any interest in his personal life before. Maybe he was finally getting to him?


    “Oh yeah! I started last week. I’ve been putting in quite a lot of overtime hours. After all, it’s a bit harder for me to type quite as fast as my coworkers.”


    He wiggled all three of his fingers on his disabled hand. If it had worked once today, why not try again? He needed all the points that he could have with the man and he was not above using all of the cards at his disposal.


    Mr. McClellan''s gaze zeroed in on his hand then looked away guiltily. “That’s … ahem … good. Very good.” Dante hid a smile. So even he could be flustered. Though it was not the most dignified way of doing it.


    “You were fortunate to get a job like that, given … everything.” Mr. McClellan coughed again and maintained his gaze over Dante’s shoulder.


    Dante fought not to roll his eyes. Of course the man had to bring up the past, never mind that he had stayed on the right side of the law for years now. He didn''t even pirate shows for crying out loud!


    "It wasn''t without much effort, believe me. Besides, I couldn''t have done it without my friends and your recommendation."


    Which he was certain only happened after weeks of nagging by his sister. She was incredibly good at that. There was no chance in hell the McClellans would have that much faith in him otherwise.


    Mr. McClellan shifted uncomfortably at the mention. "Everyone deserves a second or third chance." This jab did draw a small scowl from Dante and, shockingly, the man seemed to regret his words.


    “That is to say,” he continued, “That you’ve done good, kid. Undeniably made your sister proud. Make sure to keep it up.”


    Dante was so stunned that the jab at his past didn’t register. This was new territory. Never before had either Mr. or Ms. McClellan shown anything close to approval for him. Of course, he had to add an unspoken ‘or else’ to the end, he thought and smiled wryly.


    The silence stretched between them again, though perhaps one not as uncomfortable as before.


    Still … Where is she?


    He was so late and yet she wasn’t ready. He supposed he should be grateful that he hadn’t had to endure a conversation like this for half an hour or more. It wasn’t like the place he was taking her to was THAT fancy. As if summoned by the thought, he heard quick footsteps and saw Mr. McClellan make a half turn as a shape darted by him.


    “Brother!”


    He only had a second to get ready before Sophia tackled him. All the breath left him with an emphatic ‘oof’. Despite being in her second year of high school, she was already taller than him by a fair few inches and weighed about the same. Not that he would ever mention that fact in her presence. He had learned that lesson a while ago.


    “Hey Soph”, her energy never failed to put a smile on his lips. He reached up to pat her red hair and she immediately scowled, pushing his hand aside. Dante realized that she had grown taller since he had last seen her. Also …


    She looks like mom now. Not that she would remember.


    These days, he barely did himself.


    “Come on bro, I am not a kid anymore." She drew back from him and reached out her fist and looked at him expectantly. “Let’s do something like this from now on.”


    Dante gazed at her fist questioningly before he realized what she wanted. “A fist bump? No. Come on, it’s not the 2010s anymore.” She continued looking at him expectantly and he sighed. Dante listlessly drew back his fist and knocked it against hers.


    “Boom!” Sophia exclaimed and drew her hand while wiggling her fingers and eyebrows. He snorted despite his best efforts and she returned his grin.


    They were interrupted when Mr. McClellan cleared his throat.


    “You will be back before eleven, no exceptions. Don’t make me regret this.” Mr. McClellan said, staring unblinkingly at Dante, who did his best to meet his gaze without flinching.


    “Oh my god Dad, he gets it already. Besides, I’ll be there to remind him.” Soph walked past him and tugged him back towards the street.


    “Come onnnn, we don’t have a lot of time left and we don’t want to miss the bus.” Sophia pulled him at a brisk pace back the way he came.


    An instinct compelled Dante to turn back one more time before they left the sight of the house. He found Mr. McClellan still staring him down. Seeing Dante looking back, the man took the opportunity to mouth ‘I am watching you’ while pointing two fingers at his eyes, then back at him. Apparently, they still had a long way to go.


    Dante fell into a quick walk beside Sophia and noticed that his sister had gone all out. A nice dress, hair down and straightened, and makeup to top it off. It threw him off, Dante was much more used to her dressing in stained jeans and a ratty t-shirt. If she hadn’t acted so much like his sister, he might not have recognized her.


    “What’s all this?” he asked, gesturing to his sister in general. “Desmond’s Steakhouse is a pretty nice place but nothing like that.”


    She looked over her shoulder to flash a snarky grin at him. “What? A girl can’t look nice every once in a while? Besides, what if the server is cute or something?”


    She cackled at the expression on his face.


    “No-no-no-no” Dante shook his head emphatically. “You are so NOT doing anything like that. Not while I am there!”


    Sophia’s laughing redoubled and Dante shook his head. He picked up the pace and the laughing cut off as she hurried to catch up. A good many minutes passed before she spoke again, and this time she sounded contrite.


    “So I hope Dad didn’t ride your ass too hard. He thinks you''re a bad influence on me or something.” Dante snorted at that.


    “Only the usual amount. Although … I think we might finally be making some progress” he said, still not quite believing it.


    “Wait, really!” He looked back and saw that she was beaming at him. A look that he returned in kind.


    “Yeah, it caught me off guard. We were having the usual awkward standoff when he up and complimented me.” Dante hesitated for a second, then added belatedly: “I know it’s not much, but baby steps right?”


    Sophia nodded vigorously. “That’s right! I guess we now have two things to celebrate tonight!” She stopped suddenly and pointed to the bus stop ahead of them, an alarm on her face.


    “Shit Bro, that’s our bus.” He followed her finger and saw that the bus was indeed already at the stop. Dante grabbed his sister''s hand and broke into a jog. What followed was a madcap dash to the bus, all the while hoping it wouldn’t pull away.


    They climbed aboard, out of breath and Dante swiped his pass. He said to the driver, who was an older gentleman wearing a ball cap and a grand white mustache: “Thanks for holding up, don’t know what we would have done if we missed it.”


    The driver shrugged, “Not like this route is busy at this hour anyways,” and gestured to the interior.


    Dante could see what the man meant, they had their pick of seats. The only other passengers were a teenager wearing a hoodie bobbing his head to an unheard beat near the front of the bus and two uniformed school girls at the back. They elected to sit together between the two groups, and the bus rumbled into motion.


    It seemed that they had managed to board the bus just in time, as the pitter-patter of rain against the roof soon began right then. Dante could remember when that meant a miserable night. It was hard to stay warm on the streets with no roof over your head. All the good spots were always taken and you would have to sleep like a half-drowned rat. Given how much it rained here, that was a lot of days.


    “You know Sis, if it weren’t for you, I don’t want to know where I would be now.” He yelped as there was a poke in his side. He turned and leveled a glare at his sister who wagged a finger at him.


    “None of that Bro. We promised nothing too mushy tonight. We are here to celebrate you getting your new job.”


    Dante massaged his side, he always hated it when she did that. “Yeah I know, but don’t act like this wouldn’t be possible without you helping out. You’ve always been there for me Soph, never lost faith no matter how bad things got. Kept me sane.” His voice was trembling and he had to pause to dab at the wetness at the corner of his eyes. “This whole thing … I want to let you know how much you mean to me”.


    Sophia huffed, looking away. “C’mon Dante, you’re embarrassing me.”


    She was rolling her eyes at him like only a teenage girl could, but he could spot a small smile despite her nonchalant act.


    “I know, I know.” he laughed, “Mushy stuff over now.”


    He poked back at her, eliciting a squeal, and said: “The real question is what you are going to order tonight! Don’t hold back now, this is as much your celebration as it is mine. Also, I got my first paycheck now and man is it waaay more cash than I’ve had, so don’t worry about price or anything.”


    Soph started to respond, then her gaze fixated on something behind him and her expression transformed into one of abject horror. She screamed, a hackle raising sound of pure terror that he had never heard from her, and clutched for his arm. Dante looked over his shoulder and had just enough time to see a grill of an 18-wheeler mere feet away. In that one eternal moment, he locked eyes with the sallow eyes of the driver. The man had a six o''clock shadow and dark bags under his eyes. There was a cigarette dangling from his lips and he was clutching his chest.


    Then Dante’s world was upturned and became nothing but pain.