Rachel POV
Our food arrived, brought by the same waiter and a young woman in matching uniform. They set the plates down carefully-Marcus's steak, my salmon, Dad's chicken-and refilled our water glasses before slipping away quietly.
The three of us began eating in silence.
I glanced over at Marcus watching as he cut his steak with deliberate precision, his eyes fixed on his plate.
"It's a fine degree," Marcus said after a long moment, his tone carefully neutral-detached. "I just wish you'd picked something with better job security after graduation."
Dad's smile faltered slightly, but he pressed on. "Sometimes people choose careers not just for money or security, but for fulfillment. Rachel loves being part of these children's lives. That matters."
"Perhaps," Marcus said flatly, stil
