SUNKISSED - Jeremiah Fisher

- 2 -

- Sarah -

I walk into the kitchen with Jeremiah and Steven, my smile growing wider with each step. The familiar warmth of Susannah's beach house wraps around me like a hug, pulling me right back into the heart of summer. "Hi, Susannah!" I call out, waving as we step into the room.

She turns around slowly, her eyes landing on me. For a moment, she just stares, her jaw dropping ever so slightly. "Laurel!" she exclaims, barely tearing her gaze away. "Come look at Sarah... Look at how beautiful she's gotten!"

Jeremiah and Steven snicker behind me, already backing up as Susannah makes her way over, her eyes sparkling with affection. I can't help but laugh, knowing they're amused by the inevitable attention I'm about to receive.

Susannah takes my face gently in her hands, studying me with admiration. "You look just like your mother," she says, her voice warm. "She told me you'd grown up, but she didn't mention you'd turned into a model," she adds with a teasing laugh.

"Susannah!" I say, feigning embarrassment as I glance toward the kitchen. "Laurel! A little help here?" I call out, my voice mock-pleading.

Laurel walks in, laughing softly. "She's not wrong, you know. You look stunning, Sarah. I just wish your mom could be here to see you this summer."

The mention of my mom brings a bittersweet smile to my face. "She said she'd try to make it for the Fourth of July," I explain, my tone softening. "But her business is booming right now. She's traveling all the time."

Susannah's smile brightens as she exchanges a glance with Laurel. "Well, we'll hold her to it. We need the whole family together," Susannah says, giving me one last affectionate look. "You go unpack, and then we'll see you out on the beach, alright?"

"Alright," I say, flashing a grin as I back away. "I'll be down in a bit."

I dash up the stairs, my heart light as I head to my room. The door creaks open, and I'm immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. My baby pink seashell wallpaper is still perfectly intact, just as I left it last summer. The familiar scent of salt and sunscreen lingers in the air, mingling with the memories that fill this room. My photos line the walls, a timeline of summer memories captured and framed. Well, almost all of them are there.

One is missing.

I smile to myself, already knowing exactly which one it is. Every year, without fail, Jeremiah makes it his personal mission to move my baby photo. It's been his little tradition for as long as I can remember, and for the life of me, I've never understood why. But every summer, the picture is never where I left it.

"Jeremiah!" I shout, knowing full well he can hear me through the walls. "You're not funny!"

His laughter echoes from somewhere down the hall, that unmistakable sound of triumph in his voice. I shake my head, knowing this year's search is about to begin. He used to be terrible at hiding it—back when we were younger, it would take me all of five minutes to find it tucked behind a pillow or hidden under the bed. But three summers ago, he upped his game. Now, it's a full-blown treasure hunt.

I start searching, checking the usual spots first—under the bed, behind the curtains, in my desk drawer. But Jeremiah has gotten better at this, and twenty minutes later, I'm still empty-handed. I'm about to give up when a thought strikes me.

Climbing onto my bed, I reach for the top shelf of my closet, where my box of bathing suits sits. Sure enough, there it is—my baby photo, stashed behind the box. I pull it out, shaking my head with a smile.

"Seven years in a row," I mutter to myself, staring at the familiar photo of my younger self. "Still not funny, Jeremiah."

But as I stand there holding the picture, I can't help but laugh. Some things, like Jeremiah's pranks, will never change. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.