Our Last Family Dinner

The moment I stepped through the front door, the warm light in the entryway fell across my skin, but I felt none of it. The cold that had settled into my bones was still spreading through every limb.

My sister, Talia Lawson, was two years older than me. She was the first to come forward. Her smile looked strained as she reached out to put her arm around my shoulder.

"Tommy! You're back! I missed you so much these past 14 days."

Her hand was raised halfway when something in my head snapped. The camp rules were carved into my bones like a curse, every word hammered into my skull.

"Contact with the opposite sex is a grave offense."

I recoiled like I had touched a red-hot iron, stumbling backward until my spine hit the cold wall behind me. Only the hard surface pressing against my back gave me any sense of safety.

The wall dug painfully into my shoulder blades, but I did not dare move. My hands clenched the edges of my scarf so tightly my knuckles went white, and my whole body trembled like a leaf caught in the wind.

Mom's gaze swept over me. Her eyes widened at first, then something flickered across them, a faint, barely perceptible satisfaction. She waved a hand, her tone airy and dismissive.

"Your brother just finished his lessons. Don't make a fuss."

Talia's hand froze in midair, the smile fading from her eyes. She pressed her lips together and quietly stepped back, putting distance between us. She looked at me, her voice softening.

"I knew you were coming home today, so I got you something. See if you like it."

She reached into her pocket and held out a card. It was a signed photo of a female singer I used to be a fan of. The woman in the picture had a dazzling smile, but now, it only hurt to look at.

The instructors at the camp had said that fixating on female celebrities was a sign of an impure mind and the first step toward corruption.

I had stopped allowing myself to like her a long time ago. Even hearing her name felt like a violation.

"No, thank you, Talia."

Her hand stopped, and the disappointment in her eyes nearly spilled over. She stood there holding the photo, fingertips pressed white against it.

Dad came over quickly, placing a hand on my back. His voice was impossibly gentle. "It's fine, it's fine. It's just a photo. If you don't want it, don't take it. Whenever you find something you do like, your sister can get it for you."

Mom nodded along. "It's okay. I know you've been good. Even if you keep it, it won't count as breaking the rules."

Yet I still shook my head, fingers digging into my palms, not daring to look up.

The kinder they acted, the colder I felt inside. They were the ones who sent me to that hell, and now, they were putting on this show of warmth and affection.

Dinner was already set out on the table. Dad transferred our holiday money to Talia and me, and the number on the screen made my eyes sting.

Mom smiled. "Tommy, we'll take you out after dinner. There's something going on nearby today. It'll be a lot of fun."

Dad put his arm around my shoulders, the warmth of his palm seeping through my clothes, almost scalding.

Talia quietly transferred some of her own money into my account, moving so carefully it was as if she were afraid of startling me.

Mom sat across the table, smiling, her eyes full of quiet satisfaction.

This family looked like they loved me, like everything was warm and perfect.