Seph began preparing to leave. First, she tucked the precious parchment and the lead box containing the unsettling black substance behind the sofa, then immediately changed her mind, retrieving them and burying them deep within a pile of old clothes in the storage room instead. The amethyst crystal she placed carefully inside her small jewellery box.
Then, peeling off the sweat-dampened hoodie and cycling shorts, she took a quick, refreshing shower, changed into clean clothes, applied a touch of simple makeup, and hurried downstairs.
Outside her building were several small restaurants specializing in grilled meats, usually with queues snaking out the door. The rich, smoky aroma drifted on the evening air, a scent the old Seph would barely have registered. But the Seph of now, the Seph who knew true starvation, found her mouth watering uncontrollably. She had a sudden, visceral urge to barge into the nearest place and devour everything in sight.
It struck her then – how very, very long it had been since she had smelled meat cooking so freely, so enticingly.
But she retained enough self-control to keep walking, forcing her eyes straight ahead, ignoring the siren call of the grilling meat. When she arrived at her aunt and uncle's house, she found the dining table already laden with a feast, including a huge platter piled high with golden-brown, perfectly roasted ribs.
Seph offered polite greetings to Aunt Susan and Uncle Richard, thanking them for the invitation. The table was indeed groaning with food, and the delicious smell filling the room made her swallow hard against the sudden rush of saliva.
Uncle Richard gestured warmly for her to sit down. Seph resisted the urge to dive straight into the food, waiting until everyone was seated before picking up her knife and fork and beginning to eat.
She was indeed desperately hungry, but years of harsh discipline asserted themselves. She forced herself to maintain basic table manners, taking small bites, chewing slowly, truly savouring the long-lost flavours. The ribs were cooked to perfection – crisp on the outside, meltingly tender and juicy within. "This steak is absolutely delicious, Uncle Richard," she couldn't help but exclaim sincerely. " You really are a master of the grill."
Uncle Richard beamed, clearly pleased. "Glad you like it, Seph! Can't take all the credit though – Aunt Susan made the marinade."
Aunt Susan nodded in agreement, adding, "Do help yourself to more if you're still hungry, dear."
Seph smiled her thanks and took another couple of ribs, but she didn't attack the food with the desperate urgency she felt inside. She knew, even as she relished every mouthful, that she needed to observe the social niceties, to maintain a sense of decorum.
Aunt Susan watched Seph eat, her expression unreadable, a mixture of emotions flickering in her eyes. She and Seph's late mother had been half-sisters; they'd kept in touch over the years, but had never been particularly close. Looking at her orphaned niece now, seemingly adrift and inexperienced in the ways of the world, Susan felt a pang of something akin to concern, mingled with an undeniable sense of weary obligation.
This dinner invitation served a dual purpose: partly a belated gesture of familial connection, but primarily, Susan needed to discuss the matter of the inheritance left by Seph's maternal grandfather – Susan's own father. It was a substantial sum, but tied up with certain conditions that Seph needed to fulfil.
Uncle Richard also observed his niece's eating habits, though his thoughts ran along more pragmatic lines. He shared few of his wife's vague concerns. In his view, the inheritance was practically theirs for the taking; Seph was simply the necessary instrument, the 'tool', who required their guidance – and cooperation – to unlock it.
The atmosphere around the table remained pleasant enough, filled with the mingled aromas of roast meat, fresh salad, and warm bread. It was all undeniably appetizing. Seph offered appropriate compliments on the food and maintained a polite, if somewhat reserved, conversation about trivialities with her aunt and uncle.
By the end of the main course, Seph had consumed a respectable amount of steak, along with some salad and bread, managing to curb her voracious appetite without appearing rude. She understood the need to balance her own desperate hunger with the demands of polite society.
Ricky, Aunt Susan and Uncle Richard's teenage son, wolfed down his own portion of pasta and promptly excused himself, disappearing eagerly towards the lure of his video games, leaving the three adults alone at the table.
Seeing Seph place her knife and fork neatly on her plate, Aunt Susan set down her own cutlery. Dabbing her mouth delicately with her napkin, she adopted a gentle tone. "Seph, dear, now that we've all had a chance to eat, perhaps we could chat for a moment about why we asked you over tonight?"
Seph nodded, mirroring her aunt's action with her own napkin. She knew perfectly well what was coming. While she didn't necessarily object to spending time with family, she understood the underlying reason for this sudden hospitality. The true purpose of this dinner, she was quite certain, revolved around her grandfather's legacy.
A familiar weariness settled over her. The fickle nature of human relationships, the calculations and self-interest lurking beneath polite surfaces – she had witnessed far too much of it in the brutal world she'd left behind. Still, she had no intention of causing conflict. Aunt Susan and Uncle Richard, whatever their motives, were among the very few relatives she had left in this world.
And so, she placed her napkin beside her plate and met her aunt's gaze evenly. "Of course, Aunt Susan," she replied, her voice calm and steady. "I'm all ears."