The first thing that changed after Ethan’s parents left was not the atmosphere.
It was the planning.
Real planning.
Not wedding colours.
Not guest lists.
Not decoration boards on Clara’s phone.
Serious planning.
On Saturday morning, my mother called a family meeting.
Not dramatic.
Just firm.
“Everybody sit down,” she said after breakfast.
Daniel was there already. He had started coming more often now, through the front door like she instructed. No hiding. No side conversations in the garden.
Maya sat upright like she was attending a board meeting.
Clara crossed her legs and leaned back, but her eyes were sharp.
I sat quietly, waiting.
My mother looked at Daniel first.
“If this is the direction we are taking,” she said calmly, “then we will do it properly.”
Daniel nodded. “
