The dining room was warm with candlelight and conversation. Aunt Estella had outdone herself—roasted chicken, herbed potatoes, fresh bread, a salad with pogranate seeds. The table was crowded with dishes and wine glasses and the particular chaos of a family dinner.
Nate raised his glass. "To Aunt Estella. The only reason any of us survived high school."
"Hear, hear," Julian said. "I still dream about her pot roast."
"You ca to Arianne’s house just for the food," Gilbert said. "We all did. It was the only reason we tolerated her."
"I tolerated you," Arianne said.
"Barely. You told I was annoying for the first six months."
"You were annoying."
"But you let stay for dinner." Gilbert gestured at the spread before them. "This is why. Aunt Estella’s cooking was worth putting up with you."
From the kitchen, Aunt Estella’s voice carried through the doorway. "I can hear you, Mr. Pemberton."
"It was a complint!"
"It had better be."
Sam leaned toward Arianne, her voice conspiratorial. "He’s not wrong, though. I used to beg Gilbert to bring along when he visited you. I was twelve and I knew Aunt Estella’s cooking was better than anything we had at ho. I still rember the first ti I tried her apple tart. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven."
"You told you were going to marry the apple tart," Gilbert said.
"I was twelve. It was a very good tart."
The twins, seated at the far end of the table with Kyle, were deep in their own conversation. Lily was explaining the wedding to Kyle in exhaustive detail.
"I’m going to be the flower girl. That ans I throw petals. Leo is the ring bearer. That ans he carries the rings. They’re very important jobs. We have to practice."
Kyle looked at Leo. "Are you nervous?"
Leo typed: NO. READY.
"He’s ready," Lily translated. "We’re both ready. We’ve been waiting for Uncle Gilbert to get married for ages. Aunt Aria said he took too long."
"I heard that," Gilbert called down the table.
"It’s true," Arianne said.
Aunt Estella erged from the kitchen to clear the plates, and Nate imdiately stood to help her. "The al was incredible. As always."
"You’ve been saying that for fifteen years."
"Because it’s been true for fifteen years."
She waved him off, but her expression was pleased. "There’s more dessert in the kitchen if anyone wants seconds."
"You’re a miracle," Julian called after her.
"I’m aware," she said, and disappeared through the kitchen door.
The evening wound down. Plates were cleared. Aunt Estella’s apple tart had been reduced to crumbs. Kyle was asleep on the couch in the sitting room, a blanket draped over him by soone—probably Lily, who took her responsibilities as the oldest child present very seriously.
Gilbert pushed back from the table. "The bar’s closed tonight. New Year’s. But we should talk. Core group only."
"Franz’s study," Arianne said. "West wing. It’s quieter."
Nate nodded. Julian stretched and stood. The five of them—Arianne, Franz, Gilbert, Julian, Nate—moved toward the hallway.
Lily looked up from where she was sitting with Leo and Kyle’s sleeping form. "Where are you going?"
"Grown-ups need to talk about work," Sam said, settling onto the couch beside her. "Adult stuff. Very boring."
"Aunt Aria always works," Lily complained.
Sam laughed. "She does. It’s exhausting watching her, isn’t it?"
"She works more than anyone I know. Even more than Uncle Franz, and he has to morize scripts."
"That’s because she’s very important." Sam pulled a blanket over her lap. "But tonight, you’re stuck with and Aunt Audrey. We’re much more fun."
"Debatable," Audrey said, but she was smiling.
Lily seed willing to be convinced. "Do you know any gas?"
"I know several gas."
"What kind of gas?"
"Card gas. Word gas. Gas that require strategy and cunning."
Lily’s eyes lit up. "I’m very good at strategy."
"I thought you might be."
Sam was about to say sothing else when the front door opened. Her smile faltered—only a flicker, gone before it could be read.
Gio stepped inside, his coat dusted with the cold evening air, his tablet in his hand. He’d been at the Rochefort Group offices for the year-end wrap-up, and he looked tired in the way of soone who’d been staring at spreadsheets for hours. He stopped when he saw the gathering. His eyes swept the room, taking in Audrey, the twins, Kyle asleep on the couch, and then landed on Sam.
Neither of them spoke.
Sam’s expression didn’t change, but sothing in her posture went tight. Imperceptible unless you were watching closely. Gio’s face remained perfectly neutral, the mask he’d worn for eight years. The silence stretched a beat too long.
"Gio," Arianne said from the hallway. "The reports can wait until tomorrow."
"I know." His voice was even. He didn’t look at Sam again. "I was just heading to my quarters."
"You should eat. There’s leftovers in the kitchen. Aunt Estella saved you a plate."
"Thank you." He walked toward the kitchen, his footsteps steady, unhurried.
Sam turned back to Lily. Her smile was back in place, bright and practiced. "Cards," she said. "Let’s start with cards."
–
The five of them moved through the darkened house to Franz’s study in the west wing. The desk was cluttered with scripts and contracts. It was a different energy than Nate’s bar, more private, more intimate. But the brotherhood had never been about the location. It had been about the people.
Franz closed the door behind them. "Core group only. Just like old tis."
"Old tis," Gilbert repeated. "We’re not that old."
"Speak for yourself," Julian said, sinking into one of the armchairs. "I have a three-year-old. I’m ancient."
Nate settled onto the couch. "All right. Let’s talk."
In the sitting room, Sam dealt the cards with hands that were perfectly steady. Lily studied her hand with the intensity of a general surveying a battlefield. Leo had his tablet ready, already typing strategy suggestions. Audrey watched them all with dry amusent. Kyle slept on, undisturbed.
And in the kitchen, Gio ate alone at the counter, Aunt Estella’s plate of leftovers warm before him, his tablet dark beside it. He didn’t turn on the screen or check his ssages. He sat with the sounds of the house muted around him and ate.
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