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𝐴 𝐹𝑅𝑂𝑍𝐸𝑁 𝑅𝐸𝐿𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁𝑆𝐻𝐼𝑃

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　　 𝐈'𝐌 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 Leo for Adam, Bree, and Chase to return from their mission. Bree promised we would go shopping—well, she said she was going shopping, and I had to come with her. Out of the house, away from all the chaos, away from the boys, I'm in.

'Ha! I win!' Leo puffs out his chest, triumphant.

'You've got scissors, I've got rock. Rock beats scissors,' I huff, tossing my hair over my shoulder. 'It's like playing with Adam.'

'It's unfair. If it was the other way around, I'd have won every round so far,' Leo complains, brows furrowed in earnest frustration.

'But...' I start, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

'But it doesn't work that way, so now you've won. EVERY ROUND.' He glares at me, proud and frustrated all at once.

'You'll get the hang of it eventually,' I reassure him, and he shoots me a glare sharp enough to sting. Too easy.

A familiar, female voice cuts through the room, radiant and victorious. 'Mission accomplished.'

Leo and I turn to see Adam, Bree, and Chase entering, triumphant yet exhausted.

'Good job, guys. You just saved that island from the biggest tropical storm in decades,' Davenport praises them, voice booming with pride.

Adam barrels ahead, carrying a bag of what he calls "hairy fruit," and dumps a mound of coconuts across the cyber desk. My eyes widen; I didn't even realize that's what he meant. My Adam is getting worse.

'Just be happy I made him put the pelican back,' Bree says, and I can't help but wonder... how in the world did he even catch a pelican?

Davenport showers both Adam and Bree with praise, hands flapping, voice full of pride. And while it's charming for the younger siblings, my eyes find Chase. I know that look—the one that says he's invisible, overshadowed, ignored. I can practically see the ache curling in his chest.

I cross the lab, ignoring the chaos around me, and take his hands gently. I force him to look at me, meet my eyes. 'You were great on this mission.'

'Well, you're the only one who thinks so,' he mutters, voice rising just enough to draw the attention of his family. He points to his forehead. 'The real work happens up here.'

Bree immediately chimes in. 'Chase, no offense, but your bionic brain is no match for our hustle—'

'And muscle,' Adam adds, as if to drive the point home.

'Oeh!' Davenport interjects, utterly oblivious to the tension. 'That's a great team name. Muscle, hustle, and ch-chustle... we'll find you an "ustle."'

Chase flinches, a brief, sharp motion, and I can feel the frustration rolling off him like waves. His jaw tightens, hands clenching at his sides.

'I'm so tired of these two getting all the attention just because they have super strength and super speed,' he admits finally, voice low but raw. 'I never get any of the credit.'

I can hear the heartbreak underneath the words, the way his chest tightens as if each syllable weighs on him. It's so quiet that Bree and Adam don't even seem to notice.

'That's not true,' Davenport chimes, voice booming, yet utterly ineffective. 'They have flash, yes, but you're the glue that holds them together. You're... flash glue.'

'Flash glue?' Chase repeats, and I can hear the bitter irony, the sharp edge to the humor he doesn't feel.

Adam, in his usual reckless brilliance, smashes a coconut against his forehead. It cracks with a satisfying crunch. 'You're right, Chase. The real work does happen up there.'