The dinner table was warm with laughter and flickers of shared stories. As the plates were passed around and wine glasses refilled, the atmosphere turned comfortably intimate. Dimitry took a bite of the stuffed zucchini and hummed in approval. “This... this is divine. Whoever made this has my heart tonight.”
Vera’s eyes flicked up as Leila leaned closer and whispered with a playful grin, “Is this Nonna’s recipe? The one you used to sneak into your lunchbox when you didn’t want to share?”
Vera stifled a chuckle. “I had to survive high school somehow.”
The food brought back a familiar comfort. The flavors, the spices—each bite a quiet echo of simpler, lost times. For a brief moment, Vera let herself enjoy it.
After dinner, dessert—light tiramisu and fresh berries—was served, and they all drifted to the backyard. The pool shimmered gently under the glow of soft garden lights. A breeze curled through the air, stirring Vera’s dress and the leaves above them. The night had draped itself in
