The rain hit the glass like fingers drumming a warning—slow at first, then louder. Harder. Thunder cracked in the distance, and lightning lit up the gray sky outside.
Saturday had arrived with no sunshine and no mercy.
I was curled up on the couch with a throw blanket, pretending to read, while the boys lounged around the living room like bored wolves waiting to pounce on something. Anything.
Beau was flipping through TV channels with an annoyed grunt every two seconds. Jace sat in the armchair with his earbuds in, quietly scrolling through his phone. Eli was on the floor, sketching in his leather-bound book, pencil strokes delicate, focused.
“Okay, this is ridiculous,” Beau finally groaned. “We’re acting like prisoners. Let’s do something.”
“Like what?” I asked, glancing over the rim
