Later in the evening as Chase walked into the dining room, the warm glow of the table lamps and the savoury aromas of the meal enveloped him, creating a sense of comfort and familiarity. But the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with unspoken tensions and secrets.
Monica’s eyes darted towards Caleb, her gaze lingering on his face, searching for any sign of betrayal. Caleb’s expression was inscrutable, his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him, his jaw clenched in a tight line. Monica’s hands trembled as she fidgeted with her napkin, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
Lisa, Chase’s mother, beamed a warm smile at her son, oblivious to the undercurrents.
“Hey, sweetie, how was your day?” she asked, her voice a gentle melody that contrasted with the tension.
The grandfather, a
