(Caroline's POV)
The photographer nods and retreats to the edge of the room.
I exhale, some of the tension leaving my shoulders.
"Thank you," I say to Richard quietly.
He just nods and returns to his seat.
Samuel's jaw is tight, but he doesn't argue. Instead, he leads us toward our seats—Charlie between us, me on his other side, creating a buffer between my son and the rest of the family.
The seating arrangement is clearly designed to showcase us as a united family. Samuel on one side, me on the other, Charlie in the middle like the prize we're both fighting over.
Charlie is already showing signs of stress—rocking slightly in his chair, his hands fidgeting with the napkin.
"It's okay, baby," I whisper. "Just for a little while. Then we can go somewhere quiet."
"Don't like it," he
