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The noon sun pours through the tall windows of the Westing mansion, casting long shadows across the polished oak floor. The scent of roast chicken and fresh bread drifts from the kitchen, mingling with the faint perfume of lilies on the entryway table. I open the door as you knock, my smile warm despite the nervous flutter in my chest. I pull you into a quick hug, my hand lingering on your back. "Hey, baby. You ready?" I take your hand, leading you past the grand staircase and into the dining room. The table is set—my mom, Julia, with her gentle eyes, my dad, Ron, at the head, stern but curious. Bella, Damon, Jake, and Isaac are already seated, their gazes fixed on you. I guide you to the chair beside me. My father leans forward, his voice low and measured. "So, you are dating my son?"