“No. I just meant it actually looks like a home. Like a nice, warm place where people actually live.” There was somethingwistful in his tone. “Valcourt Manor has never felt like that. It’s more like a museum people happen to sleep in.”
I squeezed his hand. “Well, prepare yourself. My mom is going to smother you with warmth and probably feed you until you can't move,” I said. “And she talks alot.She also goes off on tangents all the time, so you’ll end up discussing ten different things in the space of twenty minutes.”
“I'm looking forward to it.” He smiled, then glanced toward the house again. “Is she...?”
As if on cue, the front door burst open and my mother appeared on the porch. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she was wearing her favorite jeans and an oversized sweater.
“Violet!” she called out, hurrying down the porch steps. “Oh my god, you're here!”
I climbed out of the car and was immediately enveloped in her arms. She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon and home, and for a moment, I just let myself be held.
“I've missed you so much, honey,” she murmured into my hair.
“I missed you too, Mom.”
She pulled back to look at me, her hands framing my face. Her eyes were already glistening with tears. “Let me look at you. Are you okay? This news about Calista must’ve been...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I still can't believe it was one of her friends. I just can't understand how someone could do something like that.”
“I know,” I said softly. “It's a lot to process.”
She inhaled deeply. “We'll talk about it inside. I made hot chocolate.” She finally seemed to notice Julian standing next to me, and her expression shifted to curiosity mixed with motherly assessment. “Where are my manners? You must be Julian.”
“Mrs. Calloway.” He extended his hand, his posture impeccable, his smile polite but genuine. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Oh, none of that Mrs. Calloway nonsense. Call me Astrid.” She shook his hand, then surprised him by pulling him into a quick hug. “Any friend of Violet's is family here.”
I saw Julian stiffen slightly at the unexpected contact, then slowly relax.
“Come on, both of you. Inside. It's chilly out here,” Mom said, pulling back. She ushered us toward the house, already talking a mile a minute. “I made your favorite cookies, Violet. The caramel ones with the sea salt. And I figured you two probably ate on the plane, but I still made dinner just in case you didn’t. I wasn't sure what you like, Julian, so I made a little bit of everything. Have you ever tried chicken Francese? I also picked up some fresh sourdough from the bakery down the street. They make the best bread, you have to try it..."
Five minutes later, we were settled in the living room, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in our hands. The house felt weirdly familiar and foreign at the same time. Everything was exactly as I'd left it a few months ago—the worn sofa, the family photos on the mantle, the slight crack in the ceiling over the TV—but it seemed different anyway. Like I was seeing it all through new eyes.
My mother sat in her favorite armchair, tucking her legs underneath her the way she always did. “So,” she said, looking between Julian and me with barely contained curiosity. “How did you two meet?”
“At college,” I said, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “We were in a couple of the same classes.”
“Business strategy and international economics,” Julian added smoothly. “Violet sat two rows ahead of me in both of them. I noticed her on the first day.”
My mother's brows rose. “Love at first sight?”
“Something like that,” Julian replied, glancing at me with a small smile that made my stomach flutter.
The crazy thing was, it wasn't entirely a lie. He reallyhadnoticed me that first day, before everything else complicated it.
“That's very sweet,” my mother said. “And then you both ended up doing the same internship. The Valcourt Institute for Policy and Economic Research, right?”
“Yes. The institute recruits very heavily from BHU,” Julian said. “It's actually how we got to know each other better. Working together on various research projects.”
My mother nodded, taking a small sip of her hot chocolate. “I know I'm not supposed to ask too many questions about it,” she said, looking back at me. “I know what these places are like with their security clearances and confidentiality agreements. But I'm just so proud of you for getting in, sweetheart. And I'm glad you can continue your studies at the same time. But it must be hard, balancing both.”
“It can be,” I said, forcing a smile. “But it's worth it. The experience has been... invaluable.”
That, at least, was true.
“And Julian's been helping me a lot,” I added, glancing at him.
“I'm sure he has.” My mother's smile turned knowing. “It's nice to have someone looking out for you. Especially after...” Her expression turned somber. “After everything with Calista, and now this awful news. I've been really worried about you, honey.”
“I know, Mom. But I'll be okay.”
