–Damon–
Seven weeks gone, and he walks back through the door with a fiancée—pregnant, no less. I folded my arms across my chest, shaking my head at the audacity. They're rushing into marriage, and there's my little sister Alyssa—though she's not so little anymore—squirming with excitement. Her turn comes soon, after that agreement with Mom.
Kelly—alive, though the world believes her dead thanks to Livana's staged funeral—sat there with her hair dyed some shade between red and pink. Alyssa called it "Pink-Brown." Whatever it was, it suited her. My wife lounged by the sofa, eating casually while David introduced his ex-secretary as his fiancée.
"Everyone, welcome my future wife. Xyriel."
So that's her real name.
We all played dumb, as we always do. That's the drill. For her safety.
"Welcome to the family!" Mom exclaimed, embracing her warmly, even resting a hand on her belly.
"Thank you," Xyriel murmured.
