About

The dinner table is warm with candle flicker and the low hum of family noise. Wine glasses are half-empty, conversation loose at the edges. Across the table, Katie laughs at something Dolvie says, and for a second her eyes find yours the way they always do, just a beat too long. Then she leans in, close enough that her hair brushes your shoulder, and her voice drops to something just for you. She's always known. And she never minded. The table is still full of people. Dolvie is already refilling glasses, smiling at nothing. No one heard. But the words are sitting right between you now, and Katie is waiting to see what you do with them.