“I’m fine.” It’s not quite the truth, but I don’t think I could put the feeling gnawing at me into words even if I wanted to. I wish I could be fully present in this moment, enjoying the company of my family, but I can’t. Guilt from the past and fear for the future sit too heavily on my shoulders.

If Lyre had intended to pry more, she’s stopped by the arrival of Shey to dinner. The Gaian seems to have washed up and dressed in what must be one of Scorpia’s jumpsuits. It’s huge on her, but that doesn’t stop Scorpia from letting out a wolf whistle when she walks into the room. Shey sighs, and Drom makes a gagging motion behind Scorpia’s back as she goes to meet her. I turn back to dinner, trying to ignore the irritation that burns inside of me the moment I see the Gaian. I never considered that she’d be joining us for dinner as well.

When I announce the stew is ready, Scorpia leads Shey by the hand and seats her in her old chair, left of the head of the table, where she sits now. I take my seat at her right, beside Pol’s empty place. Whether it was a slip of the mind or an intentional gesture, someone put an empty bowl at his spot at the table. Everyone’s eyes slide toward it as we pass the serving bowl around.

When the stew reaches Drom’s end of the table, she fills her bowl nearly to the point of overflowing and plops a spoonful into her twin’s as well.

“There,” she says. “Now, let’s eat.”

As if a spell is broken, dinner descends into its usual chaos. The room fills with the sound of silverware clanking and mouths slurping and sounds of appreciation, casual conversation through half-full mouths, demands for Scorpia to stop hogging the whiskey. Shey looks a little lost among it all, but doesn’t comment on what must be abhorrent manners from her point of view. I eat my own portion quietly, savoring the warm meal and the sense of togetherness. The food’s not my best, but it’s not bad, either.

Before I’m halfway done with my serving, the fight for seconds begins. Drom leans over to take another too-big helping, and Lyre leans in to nab a roll off her plate while she’s distracted. Drom spills a ladleful of soup in her haste to try to stop her, and Scorpia yells at them both to stop wasting food in between shoveling spoonfuls into her mouth. Knowing how this usually goes, I move my own bowl onto my lap to keep it safe, trying to finish my first serving in peace while my sisters argue.