Dinner began as a ritual of civility, all measured words and quiet forks over fine dishes. Yet as the night stretched on, an undercurrent of playfulness edged with danger surfaced, as if beneath the relaxed formality, a secret was pressing to break free.
The Elder sat at the head of the long table, his posture regal yet at ease, eyes steady beneath a calm façade. His gaze remained fixed on me, assessing, curious, perhaps even amused. Flanking him, Jace leaned back, relaxed, a roguish grin on his lips, seemingly more interested in teasing Rapha than probing me with questions.
“So, Rahab,” the Elder began smoothly, but with an undertone of something more, something hidden. “Tell me about your family.”
I hesitated for a second.
The words caught in my throat, old pain flashing through my
