Chapter 3 - The Salmon Dinner
Friday evening arrived with a crisp, cool breeze. I stood in my kitchen, wearing my pale-gray apron, calmly slicing lemons and preparing the salmon we were supposed to eat on the night my reality fractured.
The doorbell rang at exactly 7:00 PM.
Daniel hurried to open it, his voice dripping with forced, jovial enthusiasm as he welcomed Rachel inside. She walked into the kitchen carrying a bottle of expensive red wine, wearing a demure, conservative dress, looking like a woman auditioning for the role of the innocent victim.
"Thank you so much for inviting me," Rachel said softly, her eyes wide and pleading as she set the wine on the counter. "I really hate that things got so weird the other night. You know I love you, right? Daniel is like a brother to me."
I didn't flinch at the lie. I simply smiled, taking the wine bottle from her hand.
"I know exactly what Daniel is to you, Rachel," I said smoothly, turning to grab a corkscrew. "Please, take a seat at the dining table. Dinner is almost ready."
Daniel shot Rachel a relieved, conspiratorial glance, thinking my calm demeanor meant I had fully swallowed their fabricated narrative. They sat down at the heavy oak dining table, pouring themselves glasses of wine, exchanging subtle, arrogant smiles when they thought I wasn't looking.
I plated the salmon, garnished it perfectly with the sliced lemons, and carried the plates into the dining room. I set one in front of Daniel. I set one in front of Rachel.
Then, I untied the pale-gray apron from my waist.
Instead of taking my seat, I dropped the apron directly into the center of the table. It landed over the expensive floral centerpiece, knocking over a salt shaker.
Daniel frowned, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "What are you doing?"
May you like
I reached into the pocket of my slacks and pulled out a thick, bound manila folder. I dropped it onto the table right next to the apron.
"I decided we needed some light reading to go with the salmon," I announced, my voice dropping into a freezing, lethal register that instantly silenced the room. "Since we are all committed to clearing the air, I thought we should start with Chapter One: The Kitchen Counter."
