The Dinner from Hell

"Hello, cousin," she said. "Did you miss me?"

Elena stared at Seraphina, the woman who had haunted her nightmares, who had stolen her eggs, who had tried to murder her. She wasn't wearing handcuffs. She wasn't in a prison jumpsuit. She was wearing Hermes and standing in the driveway of a Florida retirement home like she owned the sun.

"How are you here?" Elena whispered, tightening her grip on Leo. "The Feds... I saw them arrest you."

"Arrest is such a strong word," Seraphina said, leaning against the convertible. "They detained me. For questioning. But then, a very interesting thing happened. The evidence? The thumb drive you fought so hard for? It was corrupted."

"That's a lie," Kai said, stepping forward.

"Is it?" Seraphina smiled. "Or maybe technology is just unreliable. Like memory. Like loyalty."

She looked at Dr. Thorne, who was shrinking back into his chair, his face pale.

"Hello, Aris," she said. "Still telling stories?"

"Leave him alone," Elena said. "He told me everything. About Nathaniel. About the experiment."

"The experiment was a success," Seraphina said. "Look at him." She pointed a manicured finger at Leo. "He's perfect. The best of both lines. The Hawthorne genius, without the Hawthorne madness."

"He's not a Hawthorne," Elena said. "He's a Vance."

"He's an asset," Seraphina corrected. "And assets belong in the portfolio."

She opened the passenger door.

"Get in, Elena. We're going home. Marcus is cooking dinner."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Yes, you are," Seraphina said. "Because if you don't, I'll stop paying the bill for Aris's dialysis."

Elena looked at the doctor. He looked down, ashamed.

"And then," Seraphina continued, her voice light, conversational, "I'll call the police. And I'll tell them I found my kidnapped son. And the woman who took him is currently trespassing on private property in Florida."

She checked her watch.

"You have five seconds."

Elena looked at Kai. He was tensed, ready to fight. But he was unarmed. And they were exposed.

"I'll go," Elena said.

"No," Kai said.

"It's okay," Elena told him. "I have to."

She walked to the car. She put Leo in the back seat, securing the carrier. Then she got in the front.

Seraphina smiled at Kai. "Don't follow us, tech support. It would be... unfortunate."

She gunned the engine and peeled out of the driveway, leaving Kai standing in the dust.

The drive back to New York was a blur of highway and silence. Seraphina drove fast, the wind whipping her scarf. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. She had won.

They arrived at the estate just as the sun was setting. The gates were open. The lights were on.

It looked exactly the same. As if the raid had never happened. As if Elena had never left.

They walked into the house. The smell of roasting meat filled the air.

"We're in the dining room!" Marcus called out.

Elena walked in, carrying Leo.

The table was set for three. Crystal. Silver. Candles.

Marcus was sitting at the head of the table. He stood up when they entered, smiling like a host welcoming guests to a dinner party.

"You made it," he said. "Just in time."

He pulled out a chair for Elena.

"Sit," he said.

Elena sat. Seraphina sat opposite her. Marcus sat between them.

It was a tableau of domestic horror. The husband, the wife, and the sister-wife.

A servant brought out the plates. Steak. *Filet mignon.*

Rare. Bloody.

Elena looked at it. Her stomach turned.

"Eat," Marcus said. "You look thin."

"I'm not hungry," Elena said.

"Nonsense," Seraphina said, picking up her knife. "It's delicious. Marcus grilled it himself."

She cut a piece of meat. She put it in her mouth, chewing slowly, her eyes fixed on Elena.

"You know," Seraphina said, swallowing. "Marcus has a very specific way he likes his steak prepared. Most people get it wrong."

She pointed her knife at Elena's plate.

"He prefers medium rare, darling. You always overcook it."