I was in the kitchen, acquiring something for breakfast, as per usual, having chosen to omit the meal my family tended to eat as a collective. In my defence, I had a tiring week and deserved much-needed sleep. Until that call from Reed demanding me to show up on time for the dinner with his mother.

My mother had strolled in as I finished up, a plate topped with a couple of toasted bread, a messy egg on top and orange juice. She was overdressed, her hair done up, and her face full of makeup. Where was she going this early?

From behind her back, my mother presented a thick,...