IRIS

The dining room is quiet now, save for the soft clink of silverware and Nana’s gentle footsteps as she retrieves the last dishes. Candles flicker in low light, casting warm shadows across faces lined with fatigue, and worry.

Adrian leans back, loosening his collar. Kelvin pushes his chair in, glancing at Darian with concern. I sit closest to him, watching every subtle shift, the way he winces when straightening and the way his eyes flick toward the hall.

I clear my throat. “Thank you, Nana. This was… perfect.” My voice cracks slightly, but steadies.

Nana smiles, brushing a strand of gray hair back. “You all earned it.”

Adrian grins...