“Thank you,” Mum says.

She’s made Parmesan risotto with roasted shrimp for the second time this week, and she’s nailed it. She didn’t need to practice, because she’s a great cook, but rehearsals calm her nerves.

I wanted her to do one of her own creations, because Mum has a whole notebook of them since starting her course. But, for now, those are reserved for us and her teachers.

Amy sits next to me with her head down. She smiled when she came in, but the tension between her and Nia is obvious. Will is beside Aaron, but, without his iPad, it looks like he’s broken down. Only the adults are talking.

“So,” Jay says to Chris, “what do you do?”

“I’m in recruitment.”

Jay smiles like he knows what that is. Whatever it means, it must pay a lot for them to afford that house.

“I used to be an accountant,” Amy’s mum says, “but I haven’t done that for a while.”

“Jane keeps us ticking along,” says Chris.

He’s already said more than he did the entire night I was at theirs, and that only makes me more suspicious. He’s pretending, and he’s good at it.

“I wish I could be at home more,” Mum says, “but we do what we must.”

“I understand,” Jane replies. But I’ve seen the inside of her house, so I don’t think she does.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and Amy looks at me and raises her eyebrows. I don’t check it until she’s looking the other way, because I know who it’s from.

Are they there? it says, and I quickly type, Yes, and click send.

Okay, Zak replies. I’m going in.

My heart cranks up a couple of gears, and, when I tuck my phone back in my pocket, everyone’s looking at me.

“Tom?” Mum says.

“Yes.”

“Jane asked you a question.”

“Sorry, I…”

“And what did I say about phones at the table?”

Nia smirks because it’s her least-favorite rule, and Amy gives me another confused look.

“I was asking about your room,” Jane says. “You said you’d decorated. I’d love to see it.”

Is she mocking me? Does she know I was playing with her when I mentioned it, and now she’s returning the favor? Before I can reply, Jane’s already out of her seat and heading toward the stairs, saying, “Come on, then.”

“Now?”

I look at Mum because the plates haven’t even been cleared, but she looks relieved, as if Jane’s presence at the table is wringing her out.

“That would be nice,” Mum says. “We should take a break before dessert, anyway.”

Jane’s in the hallway, so I jump up and follow her. No one else comes, not even Amy. Why is she so interested in what my room looks like now?