The family, still reeling from the unexpected guest, shifted uncomfortably in their seats. My father, always the diplomat, attempted to steer the conversation into safer waters, discussing the weather and the recent renovations in the garden. Meanwhile, my mother exchanged a knowing glance with me, her eyes filled with concern and unspoken questions.
As dinner progressed, Michael continued to act as if everything was normal. He laughed, shared stories, and occasionally glanced at Sofia with a look of affection that once had been reserved for me. I watched him, maintaining an air of graciousness, while internally steeling myself for what was to come.
