Bethel's POV
Dinner dragged on after that, my mother steering the conversation toward safer topics — the upcoming charity gala, some cousin's engagement, whether the caterers for next month's board dinner could be trusted after the disaster with the salmon last time. I nodded along where it seemed appropriate, not really hearing most of it, the words *boardroom* and *two years* still echoing louder than anything else being said.
Allari, for his part, answered every question my parents threw at him with an ease that would've impressed me if I weren't so distracted — how he'd gotten into tutoring, what his approach to my "learning difficulties" was, whether he thought I had potential. He never gave a straight answer about his background, I noticed. Every question about where he came from b
