Ella
I climbed the stairs with the same expectation everyone else downstairs seemed to share.
Grandpa Ruben was going to threaten me.
Or persuade me.
Or corner me with that suffocating blend of authority and “for your own good” concern he wielded so effortlessly.
I braced myself for it, mentally rehearsed my answers, my refusals, my polite deflections.
I even prepared myself for anger.
What I wasn’t prepared for… was calm.
“Ella,” Ruben said once I stepped into his study, gesturing with a subtle wave of his hand. “Shut the door and have a seat.”
His tone was even. Almost gentle.
That alone made my steps hesitate.
I closed the door behind me, the soft click echoing louder than it should have, then crossed the room and sat in the chair opposite him.
Ruben straightened, resting b
