Third Person's POV
"This is the chef's signature dish. Crispy golden shrimp."
Mortimer tried to make his voice sound casual, even a little desperate to please. "You always loved seafood. Have some."
Seraphina looked at the shrimp.
It was perfectly battered in a thick egg wash, fried to a golden crunch. In any other context, it would have been tempting.
But right now, in her eyes, that golden hue looked like a death warrant.
"Hey, are you trying to commit a homicide?" Velda slammed her hand on the table, the sound like a gunshot. "Do you seriously not know that Sera is deathly allergic to eggs?"
Mortimer's hand froze mid-air. The entire room hit 'pause.'
The smug, helpful smile he'd been trying to maintain cracked and hung on his face like a broken mask.
He turned his head, looking
