Chapter 12 - The Family Dinner
Mark wouldn't sit on the living room sofa until he had checked the window locks twice. He was a structural engineer by trade—a man who measured everything by load-bearing walls and stress fractures—and the idea that our home had been compromised from the inside out rattled his methodical mind more than any criminal syndicate.
"You should have called me the second the federal agent showed up on your porch," Mark said, dropping his heavy hands onto the dining table as I set down a pot of fresh coffee. "I could have sent my corporate security guys over before the local precinct even logged the call."
"We couldn't risk involving anyone else, Mark," James said quietly, taking a seat across from him. "The network had roots inside the state health registry. Anyone we called could have been compromised."
Mark sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. He looked down at Lily, who was wide awake now, staring up at the chandelier with her dark, luminous eyes. "She has your mother's chin, James. God help her."
The tension in the room broke on a dry, involuntary chuckle from my husband. "That’s what I’m most afraid of."
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For the first time in weeks, the atmosphere around the dining table felt like something resembling normal. The boys came bounding down the stairs at seven-thirty, their backpacks slung over one shoulder, shouting about a school bus delay and whether we had any blueberry waffles left in the freezer. When Leo saw Uncle Mark sitting at the table, he dropped his bag and ran over, demanding an update on the treehouse they were supposed to build together before the first snow.
As James packed lunches and I zipped coats at the front door, I watched my family move through the hallway with a renewed sense of rhythm. The fear hadn't vanished completely—it sat in the back of my mind like a low-frequency hum—but the invisible trap had been smashed to pieces. We were whole. Five boys counting James, and now our little girl.
