For a few seconds, nobody spoke.
The leather folder sat in front of me.
Heavy.
Waiting.
The waiter stood politely beside the table.
Lucas smiled.
Britney adjusted her bracelet.
My mother stared at her lap.
And suddenly I understood everything.
This dinner wasn’t an invitation.
It was an ambush.
A very expensive ambush.
Lucas tapped the edge of the table.
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