Stella's muffled protest slipped right past Reika's hands and hit the table like a bell.
"MOM!"
Everything stopped for a beat. Forks hovered. The music felt too loud for one second and then too quiet.
Rachel's eyebrows went up high enough to hit her hairline. Cecilia blinked once—slow, precise—and set her napkin down like it suddenly needed to be folded into a straight line. Seraphina didn't move at all; she goes statue-still when she's surprised, chin tilted, eyes a touch colder while she thinks through feeling.
Reika held her ground, palms still over Stella's ears, face calm in that professional way that is also a shield. Rose's mouth curved, and she glanced at me like, there it is.
The moment breathed again. Rachel was first to find her voice.
"Since when," she said, very carefully, "do we say Mom to Reika?"
