Here’s an interesting, vivid piece built around that line, suitable for flash fiction or a character scene.
Then, from downstairs—louder this time, the word sharp as a snapped ruler: keep it down, you two!!
They looked at each other. Leo’s smirk faded. Lena’s glare softened into something worse: understanding. Because the funny thing was, they hadn’t been fighting. Not really. They’d been playing—a dumb, wordless game of sock-ball, then the thumping, then the pillow. It was the first time all week they’d made any noise at all that wasn’t a door closing. Here’s an interesting, vivid piece built around that
“What ghost?”
From below: nothing.
“Yeah,” Lena said. “I know.”
And for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the hum of the streetlight outside—trying, and failing, to be louder than the silence they’d learned to live in. Lena’s glare softened into something worse: understanding