My aunt Linda and uncle Robert were in the armchairs, drinks in hand.
Everyone looked up when I entered.
"Reina!" Kia stood, came over to hug me.
The embrace was stiff. Awkward. We hadn't seen each other in over a year, and even before that, we'd never been close. Twelve years apart had turned us into strangers.
"Hi, Kia." I hugged her back, trying to ignore how uncomfortable it felt.
"You look good," she said, but her eyes told a different story. She could see the exhaustion, the fever flush, the way I was barely holding it together.
"Thanks. You too."
My aunt and uncle greeted me with polite smiles and generic questions about my flight back to town, my new apartment, my job. Surface-level conversation that required nothing real from me.
I was answering my uncle's question about the NIHL when movement caught my eye.
A man stood from the armchair by the window.
Tall. Well-dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt. Dark hair, neatly styled. Handsome in an unremarkable, forgettable way.
Beta. I could tell immediately from his complete lack of reaction to my scent.
"Reina," my mother said, her voice taking on a warmth that sounded fake, "this is Dr. Edward Grey. Edward, my daughter Reina."
Edward crossed the room, hand extended. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. Your mother has told me so much about you."
His handshake was firm, professional, completely neutral. No reaction to my scent at all. No flare of interest or recognition. Just polite friendliness.
Exactly what my mother would want.
Safe. Appropriate. Controllable.
"Nice to meet you," I managed, extracting my hand as quickly as politeness allowed.
"Edward is a cardiologist at Metropolitan Hospital," my mother continued, as if I'd asked. "He's doing groundbreaking research in minimally invasive procedures."
"That's... great," I said.
"Your mother mentioned you're a photographer?" Edward asked, clearly trying to be polite.
"Yes. I work for the NIHL."
"The National Ice Hockey League?" He seemed genuinely interested. "That must be exciting work."
Before I could answer, my mother interrupted. "It's a nice creative outlet for her. Something to keep her occupied."
My jaw tightened. "It's not an outlet. It's my career."
"Of course, sweetheart." The endearment sounded wrong coming from her. "I just meant it's not quite as... stable as a profession like Edward's. Medicine is so dependable."
She smiled at Edward, who had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable.
"Dinner's ready," my mother announced. "Shall we?"
We filed into the dining room. Formal table set with china and crystal, candles already lit. I found myself seated between my mother and Edward, directly across from Kia.
Not a coincidence.
