Leo
17
1The tires hummed endlessly against the highway asphalt, a monotonous backdrop to the suffocating silence packed inside the family SUV. It was day two of a grueling cross-country move, leaving behind everything familiar for a brand-new house thousands of miles away. Up front, Richard gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, his eyes fixed forward as if trying to ignore the chaotic geometry of the luggage stacked high behind him. In the passenger seat, Eleanor quietly adjusted the radio, her tight sighs expressing her stress far better than words ever could.In the backseat, the emotional divide was explicitly drawn. On the far left, fourteen-year-old Maya pressed herself hard against the door panel, her arms tightly crossed as she stared out the window with pure, angsty resentment. Next to her, four-year-old Chloe mirrored her older sister's posture, her tiny face twisted into a fierce, learned scowl directed squarely across the seat.And then there was twelve-year-old Leo. Sitting with his white hair slightly tousled and his distinctive arctic fox ears twitching at every bump in the road, he occupied a space of total isolation within his own family. To his parents and his sisters, his hybrid nature was an unspoken embarrassment, a social burden they were dragging along to a brand-new neighborhood where they hoped to make a normal impression. The tense glares and deliberate shifts away from his personal space made their feelings crystal clear: he was baggage they wished they could leave behind.Yet, right beside him, the cold wall broke completely. Four-year-old Toby leaned over his seatbelt, a brilliant, gap-toothed grin lighting up his face as he looked up at his older brother. Oblivious to the heavy, resentful atmosphere suffocating the rest of the car, Toby giggled, reaching out a tiny hand to playfully tap Leo's arm, desperately seeking the attention of his absolute favorite person.
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