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It felt like home.

Cars began arriving before I finished covering the side dishes.

The first wave consisted of Jason, Byron, Julie, Caldwell, and three cousins who immediately discovered the path into the woods despite Hudson telling them to stay near the house.

The next included Hilary, Patty, and enough food to support a smaller dinner taking place elsewhere.

The Fletchers arrived with their children, who had spent several weekends repairing fences beside Aaron and the Kipner twins. The forced labor had gradually developed into reluctant friendship, then actual friendship, then a new group chat the adults monitored aggressively.

Its name changed every few days. The current version was CLAWS & PAWS, which everyone agreed was terrible. Aaron defended it on the grounds that it rhymed.

Hilary entered carrying salad and hugged me without hesitation.

That had taken time too.

We had talked several times since the attack. She asked difficult questions. I answered them with complete honesty.

The council had also interviewed me, reviewed what I knew, and required a formal secrecy agreement that contained enough clauses to make my eyes lose focus.

I signed it without hesitation.

Karen had not apologized to Patty and remained excluded from family dinners, though she sent occasional messages through relatives suggesting that everyone had become intolerant of “traditional concerns.”

Grandma Ruth responded by removing her from the holiday cookie exchange. The consequences had escalated from there.

By six thirty, Hudson’s cottage held more people than any reasonable fire code would approve.

Children crawled over the stairs. Adults filled the living room. Grandpa sat in Hudson’s armchair and informed everyone who entered that he had rights to the chair and no one should ask him to get up for any reason… unless it involved pecan pie.

The bear family mingled with the wolves without visible concern, though the differences in appetite became obvious before dinner began.

Mr. Fletcher watched Hudson carry a roasting pan from the oven. “That’s all the meat?”

“There are two more trays.”

He sighed with relief. “Good.”

Dinner spread across the dining table, kitchen counters, and a folding table in the living room.

Hudson attempted to organize the serving order. Nobody listened. Grandma served children first. The bears tried to wait politely until the wolves insisted they move forward.

I moved among them with the strange awareness that this was exactly what I had wanted before I understood what wanting it would require. A crowded room. Too much food. People interrupting each other because they assumed more conversations would come later.

Love that didn’t have to be earned through perfection.

Missy arrived after everyone else. I heard the front door open and turned from the kitchen in time to see her step inside carrying Owen’s diaper bag. Daniel followed with the baby strapped against his chest in a carrier. For a moment, she stood there and looked around at the packed cottage.

Her eyes found me. “You weren’t exaggerating.”

“I usually do, but not about this.”

Missy came closer. “You said family dinner. I pictured eight people.”

Daniel looked toward the living room. “Are all these people related to each other?”

“Mostly.”

Mr. Fletcher passed carrying two plates. “Not us.”