ELORA'S POV
The room froze.
My words had landed like a storm.
For a while, no one moved. The soft clinking of cutlery altered mid-air. Breathes were held. Even the flickering candles on the table seem to dim.
Grandma Marvella choked lightly on her meal, dabbing her lips with a napkin in her trembling hand, her eyes darted from me to Lucian in disbelief.
Alex, ever the innocent soul in chaos, looked between us, confusion written across his face, a strawberry still pinched in his fingers.
Mira was the first to react. She didn't gasp or looked surprised. She simply lowered her fork, folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at me like I'd just committed treason.
Lucian? He didn't flinch, didn't blink. He just stayed…quiet, unreadable, like he'd expected this. Or didn't care
