Ella
Dinner felt wrong from the moment I sat down.
Not loud-wrong. Not chaotic. Just… off. Like a room holding its breath.
Everyone had expected me to come downstairs looking shaken…eyes red, shoulders slumped, dignity stripped away after being “dealt with” by Grandpa Ruben.
I could almost hear their predictions echoing in their heads.
But I didn’t give them that satisfaction.
I took my seat calmly, my back straight, my expression composed. If anything, I felt eerily steady, like the storm had already passed and left behind a dangerous quiet.
Kane, sitting across from me, was just as composed.
He ate normally, spoke when spoken to, neither distant nor overly attentive. If anyone had been watching closely, they might have noticed how deliberate his movements were, but to the rest o
