(Serena)And as if that wasn’t enough, my father’s parents, Grandma and Gramps, join us on the other sofa.My grandparents have always been like magic to me.Not the flashy kind. Not the sleight-of-hand or fairy-tale type.But the kind of magic that always knows what you’re thinking or feeling. Sometimes even before I do.I remember warm arms in the creak of porch chairs and old songs hummed under breaths. Comfort food and boundaries. Hard work and feeling amazing after.All the things that gave me my moral code and let me know I was always loved. Not from hearing it constantly but by having it demonstrated in an everyday way. Not that I never got into trouble.I did and I had consequences. I learned.It hits me that James never had that. He still doesn’t. He has always gotten all he wanted. He’s always been on a pedestal. He’s never been able to fail and have it be okay.They are all looking at me expectantly. It’s no good trying to lie. They will call me out.“I think I’m messing e
(Serena)Thirty-five of us, give or take a toddler, are all in this huge room and the platters are going down a treat.Some for adults and some for kids. I think the kids platters are winning all around.I end up wedged between my cousin Natalia and my uncle Byron, across from Wes and my twin sisters.My mom is at the other end of the room, deep in debate with her older sister.Nana is watching it all with the look of a woman who already knows who’s right but will let them bicker for the entertainment value.Haylee, bless her heart, has outdone herself.The room glows under string lights. There’s a photo booth set up. The pictures are being pinned up on some corkboards on the wall.The estate’s catering staff have handled the food perfectly but Haylee dings on a glass and the room fall quiet.A row of servers come out with trays with huge sliver cloche’s on them.“Now, for the highlight of the evening…” Haylee says loudly.The servers lower the trays and remove the cloches, everyone g
(Serena)The Langley family reunion doesn’t begin with a trumpet. It begins with a squeal.Specifically, a squeal from my cousin Lacey barreling across the villa lawn.Her toddler is wedged on her hip and a glittery tote bag flies out behind her. “Serena Langley Hale!” she shouts, like she’s announcing a WWE wrestler, not a woman wearing sneakers and sweatpants.I barely get the car door open before she’s hugging me tight, the toddler grabbing my cheek like I’m a new zoo animal. “This is Callum,” she says breathlessly. “He’s sticky and very friendly, sorry.”“Hi, Callum,” I manage. “Thanks for the pat-down. He’s so cute… oh my god, you said you’d never have kids…”“I know right? But here I am, and I’m loving it. Callum is probably undecided.” She giggles.“I’m sure he knows he has the best, and most fun, Mom ever.”“Yay! Everyone is here! I can’t wait to catch up.” She runs off to hug another cousin.The parking lot outside the estate is a rotating door of chaos: suitcases being dragg
(Savannah)The Whitaker Estate breathes around me like a sleeping animal.Old walls groaning in the wind, glass fractured but still catching light, and the moss thick on the stone path like velvet decay.But I will fix it all up and restore it to be my home.I walk through the front hall with a slow, deliberate pace, my boots echoing in the vast, broken quiet.My hand trails the edge of the stone hearth, the same one where James and I once made chili that nearly killed us.Where he kissed me for the first time. Where he promised me everything.It’s all still here.And soon… so will he be. With me.I stand in the center of the ruined hall and close my eyes, picturing it as it will be: the fire lit, the light warm, the wine uncorked, a meal served on mismatched plates to look like charm instead of a calculated illusion.Not that we’ve ever had real wine here before. We were far too young then. But we pretended and we daydreamed.Of being like our parents. Of taking over and running an e
(Serena)“Wait,” James says, one hand still tucked in his pocket as I start to shift toward the door. “Are you free for a bit?”I pause. “Depends. Why?”He glances at the clock, then back at me. “Afternoon tea. Conference suite. It’s a thing we do early week when we can, the senior team, sometimes interns.”“Sounds cool.” “Arden calls it productivity refueling. Theo calls it damage control. It’s informal.”“And you want me to… join?”His expression softens, but there’s something in it, something boyish, cautious. “Only if you want to. They’ll be thrilled.”“They will?”He nods. “And I think you’d like seeing what it’s like… when I’m not CEO Hale. It’s kinda like a ‘yes day’ for them. They are allowed to speak freely.”I hesitate. I wasn’t going to linger here. But that does sound fun and I’ve never really seen him in this way. Maybe I can learn some new things about him too.“Okay,” I say. “Why not?”James grins… actually grins… and gestures for me to follow. “I think I’m going to re
(Serena)I’m halfway through uploading revised product menus for the bakery expansion proposal when Haylee FaceTimes me.Twice.By the third ring, I give in and answer. “Haylee I’m trying to work…”“It’s happening,” she says. “And I don’t mean maybe or someday. I mean this weekend. Friday to Tuesday. Confirmed, booked, blessed, and scheduled down to the hour.”“What?”She flips her phone around and shows me her laptop screen … a spreadsheet filled with RSVP confirmations, accommodation assignments, catering contracts, and a banner at the top labeled:LANGLEY FAMILY REUNION – LAKE VILLA ESTATE – THIS WEEKEND.My stomach dips. “This weekend… Haylee…”“No, no. Don’t start. Everyone’s already in. Your aunts are driving down Friday morning. Wes is picking up the twins. He’s had to change his surgery schedule. Your mom’s baking three pies today. It’s not a maybe anymore. This is happening.”“I thought it would get postponed,” I say, sitting back on the couch. “I didn’t think there’d be time