Page 5

I splash cold water on my face, trying to calm the panic attack building in my chest.

He wouldn't actually hurt Bjorn.

Would he? But I know the answer.

Dylan's connections are real.

The dangerous people he "knows" would do anything for the right price.

And hurting my already injured brother would destroy me—which is exactly what Dylan wants.

Complete control through fear.

Back in the kitchen, I try to focus on cooking, but my hands shake as I stir the filling.

Astrid notices, because of course she does.

"You sure you're okay?" she asks quietly, touching my shoulder gently.

I flinch before I can stop myself, and her eyes widen slightly. "Just worried about dinner turning out right," I lie, moving away from her touch. "I want everything to be perfect."

"Honey, nothing's ever perfect," Fern says from across the kitchen. "That's what makes it family."

The next couple of hours crawl by.

I help serve drinks, set tables, arrange centerpieces made from autumn leaves and small pumpkins the kids painted.

Anything to keep busy and keep my phone silent.

But I feel it vibrating in my pocket—Dylan getting impatient, getting angry.

Each buzz is like a countdown to disaster.

Through the window, I watch for his car, dread building with each passing minute.

The wait is almost worse than his presence—at least when he's here, I know what I'm dealing with.

The anticipation makes my skin crawl.

Just after two o'clock, his car pulls up outside.

I watch him check his appearance in the mirror, adjusting his hair, practicing his smile.

The performance is about to begin again.

My hands start trembling, and I clasp them together to hide it.

He enters carrying a bouquet of flowers—grocery store carnations dyed unnatural colors, but everyone coos over the gesture.

Such a thoughtful boyfriend.

So sweet to bring flowers on Thanksgiving.

"For the hostesses," he says, handing them to Fern with that practiced charm. "Thanks for including me today. I know it's family only, so I really appreciate the invitation."

"Of course," Fern says warmly. "You're always welcome. Anyfriendof Everly's is family."

Friend.