The call came that evening.

Rebecca had just finished bathing Raya and was sitting on the edge of the bed while her daughter arranged her stuffed animals in what she called “important positions.”

Her phone lit up.

Mother.

Rebecca stepped into the hallway before answering.

“Yes, Mom?”

“I have been thinking,” Mrs. Blackwood said, her voice measured as ever.

That tone meant this was not casual.

“I assume so,” Rebecca replied quietly.

A brief pause.

“Invite him to dinner tomorrow evening.”

Rebecca blinked.

“…What?”

“Him,” her mother repeated calmly. “Vincenzo. If he intends to reappear in this family, then let him do so properly.”

Rebecca leaned against the wall.

“You...