Marvin, the youngest of the brothers, sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes fixed on the guitar. Morton leaned against the armrest of the couch, while Jeremiah and Timo whispered conspiratorially. Josiah, the oldest, paced the room, his brow furrowed with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Do you think Dad would really notice if we just looked at it?" Marvin asked, his voice barely audible over the rain. "He would notice," Josiah replied, glancing nervously at the door. "But I guess it's just sitting there, right? What's the harm in looking?"

Timo, unable to resist any longer, reached out and plucked a string. A sharp, discordant note echoed through the room, followed by a collective intake of breath. "Timo, what are you doing?" Morton hissed, his eyes wide with fear. "I just wanted to hear what it sounded like," Timo defended himself, but even he felt the weight of his actions.

Jeremiah stepped back, shaking his head. "You broke it, Timo! Dad's going to kill you!" Timo stood frozen, his hand still outstretched. "I didn't mean to," he stammered, panic rising in his chest.

"What happened here?" Jeffrey's voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of anger. Josiah stepped forward, trying to shield his brothers. "It was an accident, Dad. Timo didn't mean to—" "Enough!" Jeffrey interrupted, his gaze landing squarely on Timo. "You know the rules about my guitar."

"I won't tolerate disobedience, but I won't resort to violence either," Jeffrey finally said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "You boys will have to earn back my trust." Marvin, Morton, Jeremiah, Timo, and Josiah nodded, relief mixed with the burden of their father's words.

"We'll fix this," Morton whispered, determination in his voice. Timo nodded, grateful for his brothers' support. "Together," he agreed, feeling a sense of hope despite the night's events.