Page 134 of Ruined

Jessica hugs me tight, then surprises Noah with a quick embrace. He's still getting used to my sister's affection but I notice he no longer stiffens when she touches him.

The smell of my mother's roast chicken fills the house—a recipe she's perfected over these Sunday dinners. It's become our tradition now. Every week we gather here, pretending we're just a regular family, ignoring the security detail Noah hasstationed outside, pretending the Russians aren't still a threat lurking in the shadows.

But for a few hours each Sunday, we almost believe it.

We follow Jessica into the dining room where she's set the table with the best china—the set that used to only come out for my father's business associates. Now it's just for us. For family.

"Evelyn, could you help me bring out the vegetables?" Mom asks, already heading back to the kitchen.

I squeeze Noah's hand before letting go. "Be nice," I say.

He gives me that dangerous smile. "Always am."

In the kitchen my mother fusses over the roasted carrots, arranging them just so on a serving platter. She's different now—softer around the edges, less concerned with perfection. Grief changed her, but so did freedom.

We return to the dining room where Noah and Jessica are already deep in conversation. Noah has his phone out, showing her something that makes her laugh.

"No phones at the table," my mother chides gently as she sets down the platter.

Noah pockets his phone immediately. "Sorry, Mrs. Anderson."

"Margaret," she corrects him, as she does every Sunday.

We settle in around the table, passing dishes back and forth. The conversation flows easily now, unlike those first awkward dinners when no one knew what to say.

"Did you hear Zoe is pregnant again?" Jessica says, helping herself to potatoes. "Lucrezia mentioned it when I was at the mansion yesterday."

Noah nods. "Damiano told me last week. He's hoping for a boy this time."

"That's wonderful," my mother says, her eyes lighting up.

She glances between Noah and me with a smile that makes my stomach flip. "I do hope I get to be a grandmother someday. Nothing would make me happier than holding my grandchild."

I'm in the middle of taking a sip of water when she says this and I choke, coughing and sputtering. Noah immediately pats my back but I can feel him shaking with laughter beside me.

"Mom!" Jessica exclaims, though she's fighting a smile too.

"What?" My mother looks innocently between us. "Is it so wrong to want grandchildren?"

Noah's laughter breaks free now, deep and rich. "Your timing is impeccable, Margaret," he says, his hand still on my back.

I finally catch my breath, my face burning. "We haven't even discussed—I mean, we're not?—"

"Relax, Evelyn," my mother says, cutting a piece of chicken with precision. "I'm just saying, whenever you two decide the time is right."

I can't take my eyes off Evelyn as we step inside my apartment. The way she moves—always with a dancer's grace, even when she's just shrugging off her jacket—still gets to me. Four months together and I'm still not used to having her in my space, making it feel like somewhere worth coming back to.

"Your face when your mom mentioned grandchildren," I say, unable to hold back my laugh as I lock the door behind us. "I thought you were gonna pass out right there at the table."

Evelyn's cheeks flush that perfect shade of pink. "God, don't remind me." She kicks off her heels by the door—a habit she's developed since moving in. "I can't believe she just threw that out there like we were discussing the weather."

I follow her to the kitchen, watching as she fills a glass with water. The simple domesticity of it hits me in the chest sometimes. This woman who once fought me at every turn now moves through my home like she belongs here. Because she does.

"Your mom's got plans for us," I tease, leaning against the counter. "Better start practicing."

"Noah!" She nearly chokes again, which only makes me laugh harder.

I pull her against me, feeling her warmth through the thin fabric of her dress. "I'm just saying we could get some practice in. For your mom's sake, of course."

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