Forks scrape against fine china as my knee bounces anxiously under the table. The Harris family dining room feels like a museum exhibit of upper-class perfection, crystal glasses catching the chandelier light, sterling silver gleaming on pristine white tablecloths. And here I am, sandwiched between Rose and Lilly while trying not to stare at their aunt, who's been demolishing her roast beef like she hasn't seen food in weeks.

"Mrs. Harris, this is wonderful," I say, desperate to break the silence that's been stretching between polite clinks of silverware.

Margaret's face softens immediately, her smile reaching her eyes in a way that reminds me of Lilly when she's not plotting something. "Thank you, Seth. I'm glad you're enjoying it."

Lara, the aunt I've been warned about, impales another chunk of beef, the knife hitting the plate with enough force to make me flinch. There's something unsettling about her movements, too precise yet somehow animalistic.

"So, Seth..." Lara begins, her mouth still half-full of meat.

Margaret cuts her off with surprising firmness. "Nothing over the line, Lara." Her tone carries a warning that makes even Lara pause mid-chew.

Victoria Harris, seated at the head of the table like the CEO of the family, smoothly redirects the conversation. "How was Florida, Lara? Business good?"

Lara swallows her food with an audible gulp, dabbing her mouth with a napkin while her eyes never leave my face. "I'm finally done with the... operations over there." Her smile stretches too wide, showing too many teeth. "Very successful. Things are finally getting back on track."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, trying not to stare at Lara's mouth as she tears into another piece of meat.

Margaret sets down her fork and turns to Lara with a gentle smile. "So you're back in Boston for good now? Are you finally going to ask out that girl you've been crushing on for years?"

Lara's knife pauses mid-cut, a flash of something vulnerable crossing her face before disappearing behind her usual intensity. "Maddy's too straight-laced to even consider dating me," she says with a dismissive wave. "I’m not sure if she even likes women."

I can't help but stare at this unexpected glimpse of humanity from the woman who supposedly makes people "disappear." Lara catches me watching, and her expression transforms instantly. Her grin widens into something feral that makes my skin crawl.

"Seth," she says, leaning forward, "are you treating my two precious nieces well? They're very special girls."

My throat goes dry as I try to formulate a response that won't get me murdered. Every possible answer feels like a trap. "I, uh…"

"Aunty, please don't scare our boyfriend," Lilly interrupts, her hand finding mine under the table. Her grip is firm, reassuring despite the tension in her voice.

Rose leans forward, her smile matching her aunt's in intensity if not malice. "He's absolutely devoted to us," she purrs, her fingers trailing possessively up my arm.

Lara's eyes gleam with mischief as she sets her knife down, a predatory smile still playing on her lips. "You know what? I think Seth and I should have a little private chat after dinner. Nothing major, just five minutes of his time. I'd love to get to know him better... alone."

My heart practically stops beating. The twins tense on either side of me, their grips tightening simultaneously. Before I can stammer out some excuse, Margaret slams her palm against the table with enough force to make the silverware jump and the water glasses wobble precariously.

"You will do no such thing!" she snaps, her voice razor-sharp and colder than ice. The warm, motherly woman from moments ago has vanished completely.

The transformation is so sudden and complete that even Lara seems to shrink in her chair. Her predatory confidence evaporates instantly.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, sis," Lara mumbles, suddenly finding her half-eaten roast beef fascinating. "Just a suggestion."

I blink rapidly, struggling to process what I just witnessed. The family dynamic has completely flipped in seconds. Victoria, watching from the head of the table, looks like she's fighting back laughter, her lips pressed together in a tight line that twitches at the corners.

Leaning slightly toward Lilly, I whisper as quietly as possible, "Is Business Mom also in the mafia?" The question slips out before I can stop it, my filter completely shot after that display.

Lilly shakes her head minutely, her lips barely moving as she whispers back, "No, but Aunty is her younger sister, and she's absolutely terrified of her. Always has been."

I glance between the sisters, trying to reconcile this new information. Margaret, who's now calmly cutting her meat like she didn't just make a professional killer cower with a single sentence, seems so... normal. How could someone this put-together, this proper, hold that kind of power over someone like Lara?

The silence lingers for a few more awkward seconds before Margaret turns to me with a warm smile, her earlier intensity completely vanished.

"So Seth, how is your little brother Chris doing?" she asks, her voice gentle and genuinely interested.

I swallow my bite of roast beef, grateful for the change in subject. "Really well, actually. Lilly helped him with his math homework this weekend, and he seems to be doing a lot better." I can't help the pride that creeps into my voice. "He actually got excited about division, which is pretty much a miracle."

Margaret's face lights up as she turns to Lilly, who sits up a little straighter beside me. "That's so kind of you, dear," she says, reaching across the table to briefly squeeze her daughter's hand.

Something flickers in Margaret's eyes as she gazes at Lilly, a wistful longing. She sighs softly. "Little kids are just the best, aren't they? So curious about everything."

Victoria lets out a short laugh from the head of the table. "No, honey, they're exhausting."

"Come on," Margaret protests, turning to her wife with a playful pout. "Wouldn't it be fun to have another one? The girls are basically all grown up now."

Victoria shakes her head firmly. "A baby would be absolutely exhausting right now. The hospital is busier than ever.”

"Maybe we could adopt?" Margaret suggests, her voice hopeful. "An older child? There are so many who need homes."

Victoria's expression softens slightly. "Let's talk about it later, alright?"

Margaret nods, though I can see the disappointment she's trying to hide. She turns back to me with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "If you ever want to bring Chris by to meet your girlfriends' parents sometime, we'd love to have him."

"Sure," I say, feeling the twins exchange a glance over my head. "He'd probably love that.”

"Boys that age are so impressionable," Lara interjects, knifing another piece of meat with unnecessary force. "I remember when the twins were nine. Absolute terrors."

Victoria raises an eyebrow. "I recall them being perfect angels."

"You weren't around much," Lara counters, her tone surprisingly gentle despite the accusation. "Always stabbing people and taking out their guts and putting other people's guts into them."

Victoria tries to suppress a laugh, her lips twitching upward despite her best efforts. "Is that what you think I do, Lara? Stab people and swap out their guts?"

Lara's eyes lock with Victoria's, and the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. There's something in that stare, years of unspoken history, resentment simmering just beneath the surface. Yet Victoria doesn't flinch. If anything, she looks amused by Lara's intensity, which seems to infuriate her even more.

"Keep fucking with me, I swear to…" Lara begins, her knuckles whitening around her fork.

Margaret clears her throat, shooting her sister a glare that could freeze hellfire. It's the same look from earlier, but somehow even more potent. Lara immediately deflates, shoulders slumping as she prods at her remaining food with significantly less enthusiasm.

"I fucking hate this house," she mutters, not quite under her breath.

"No swearing in front of the children," Margaret says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"They're eighteen now," Lara protests weakly, not daring to meet her sister's eyes.

“They’ll always be my little girls, Lara.”

Lara: