ARIATuesday lunch in the villa dining room was during midday with light pouring across the table, courses arriving one by one, turning the familiar gathering into something louder, warmer. My chest felt too full already, the pregnancy making everything sharper, closer to the surface.I hadn’t expected it, but maybe I should have. Mara had brought one of her traditional recipes, and Soren immediately started picking it apart, their voices low and focused as they went back and forth.“It’s supposed to be bitter,” Mara said, eyes flashing with that familiar fire.“It’s not supposed to be that bitter,” Soren shot back.“You haven’t made this in twenty years.”“I made it underground,” he countered, voice rough, “with limited resources. It was better.”“It was not better.”“It was less bitter.”Clara sat beside Soren, staring at her plate like she’d already decided this wasn’t her fight. Smart. Saf
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