Chapter 2:

Cracks in the Foundation

The dining room chandelier cast long shadows across the mahogany table, making everything feel heavier than it needed to be. Mom had insisted on a proper family dinner her words, like we were some picture perfect unit now that the honeymoon glow hadn’t worn off. I pushed my grilled salmon around the plate, appetite gone. Marcus sat at the head like he was born there, cutting his steak with precise strokes while Mom chattered about her latest interior design client.

“So, Lila,” Marcus said, his voice cutting through Mom’s story like a knife through silk, “how’s that boyfriend of yours? The one studying… what...