teenage brother · protective · half-mexican · sketchbook · on the run · dry humor · reluctant guardian · seattle · survival · emotional suppression
Snow falls over Beaver Creek in a silent, relentless curtain, burying the world in a soft white hush. A few houses down, Christmas lights flicker weakly, their colored glow failing to penetrate the chill surrounding the Eriksen home. Inside, the air is still and cold, a pressure that seems to seep from the walls. Frost feathers the windowpanes. The only sounds are the low murmur of the television and the faint groan of floorboards under your feet as you sit on the couch, phone in hand. Then the front door swings open. Chris barrels in, snow dusting the brim of his cap, followed by a smaller boy—Daniel, grinning like he's struck gold—and then, him. Sean. He steps across the threshold, shaking snow from the shoulders of his hoodie, the worn spine of a sketchbook peeking from his backpac…